Sherlock's Sister
by booklover181
Summary: What if Sherlock had a little sister who is just as smart as him and Mycroft, but is more normal, and helps him on cases.
1. Study in Pink, Part 1

In a bedsit somewhere in London, John Watson is having a nightmare. He is reliving his Army days and his team is under fire somewhere abroad. A colleague cries out his name as the gunfire continues. Finally he jolts awake, distressed and panic-stricken. He sits up in bed wide-eyed and breathing heavily until he realises that he is safe and a long way from the war. Flopping back onto his pillow, he tries to calm his breathing as he continues to be haunted by his memories. Eventually, unable to stop himself, he begins to weep.

Sometime later in the night he has sat up on the side of the bed and switched on the bedside lamp. It's still dark outside. John sits quietly, wrapped up in his thoughts, and looks across to the desk on the other side of the room. A metal walking cane is leaning against the desk. He looks at it unhappily, and then continues to gaze into the distance. He will not be sleeping again tonight.

The sun has finally risen and John, now wearing a dressing gown over his night wear, hobbles across the room leaning heavily on his cane. In his other hand he has a mug of tea and an apple, both of which he puts down onto the desk. The mug bears the arms of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Sitting down, he opens the drawer in the desk to get his laptop. As he lifts the computer out of the drawer, we see that he also has a pistol in there. Putting the laptop onto the desk and opening the lid he looks at the webpage which has automatically loaded. It reads, "The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson". The rest of the page is blank.

Later he is at his psychotherapist's office and he sits in a chair opposite her.

"How's your blog going?" his therapist asked

"Yeah, good." clears his throat awkwardly "Very good."

"You haven't written a word, have you?"

John pointed to the notepad that the therapist was writing in "You just wrote 'Still has trust issues.'"

She gave him a 'see what I mean' look and replied "And you read my writing upside down. D'you see what I mean?" John gave her an awkward smile.

"John, you're a soldier, and it's gonna take you a while to adjust to civilian life; and writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you."

John gives her a sad look and says "Nothing happens to me."

John is limping briskly through Russle Square Park, leaning heavily on his cane. As he walks past a man sitting on the bench, the man stares after him, clearly recognising him. He calls out "John! John Watson!"

John turns around to see the man that called out to him stand up and hurries towards him, smiling.

"Stamford. Mike Stamford. We were at Bart's together." Mike introduces himself once he sees that John doesn't remember who he is.

"Yes, sorry, yes, Mike." He says while taking Mike's offered hand and shakes it "Hello, hi."

Mike grinned and gestured to himself and said "Yeah, I know." I got fat!"

"No." John tried to sound convincing when he said it.

"I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?"

"I got shot." John replied awkwardly, which caused both of them to look embarrassed.

A little later they have bought take-away coffees and are sitting side by side on a bench in the park. Mike looks at John worriedly. Oblivious, John takes a sip from his coffee then looks across to his old friend.

"Are you still at Bart's, then?" John asked.

"Teaching now. Bright young things, like we used to be. God, I hate them!" Mike replied which caused both of them to laugh.

"What about you? Just staying in town 'til you get yourself sorted?" Mike asked.

"I can't afford London on an Army pension." Johns replied.

"Ah, and you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know."

John shifted uncomfortably "Yeah, I'm not the John Watson ..."

He stops and Mike awkwardly looks away and drinks his coffee. John switches his own cup to his right hand and looks down at his left hand, clenching it into a fist as he tries to control the tremor that has started. Mike looks round at him again and asks "Couldn't Harry help?"

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen!" John replied sarcastically.

Mike shrugged "I dunno – get a flat share or something?"

"Come on – who'd want me for a flatmate?"

Mike chuckled.

"What?"

"Well, you're the second person to say that to me today."

"Who was the first?" John asked confused.

St Bartholomew's Hospital morgue Sherlock Holmes unzips the body bag lying on the table and peers at the corpse inside. He sniffs, and then turns to the two women beside him, one who couldn't have looked over the age of 18 has all her focus on a crossword puzzle booklet.

"How fresh?" he asks the woman with the auburn hair styled into a pony-tail, knowing that the other one isn't paying attention.

"Just in. Sixty-seven, natural causes." She reports, and then adds "He used to work here. I knew him. He was nice."

Zipping the bag up again, Sherlock straightens up, turns to her and smiles falsely, which caused the woman that wasn't paying attention to raise an eyebrow.

"Fine. We'll start with the riding crop." He said, which caused the other woman to put away her half-finished booklet.

Shortly afterwards the body has been removed from the bag and is lying on its back on the table. In the observation room next door, the women watch, and the woman with auburn hair, Molly, flinches while Sherlock flogs the body repeatedly and violently with a riding crop. While the other woman, Dare, took notes beside her. Molly walks back into the room and Dare not far behind, as he finishes and straightens up, breathless, when they go over to him.

"So, bad day, was it?" Molly said jokingly.

Dare frowned as her older brother ignored the other woman's banter as he took out his notebook and started writing in it while saying "I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me."

Molly nervously asks "Listen, I was wondering: maybe later, when you're finished ..."

Sherlock gives her a curious look to her as he is writing, then does a double-take and frowns at her.

"Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing lipstick before." he asked. It took all of Dare's will power not to face palm.

Molly replied nervously "I, er, I refreshed it a bit." And gives him a flirtatious smile while he gives her a long obvious look, then goes back to writing in his notebook.

Thus causing Dare to shake her head sadly that her brother is impossibly thick when it comes to other people taking a romantic interest in him.

"Sorry" he muttered "you were saying?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee." She explained.

Sherlock puts his notebook away, and smiles.

"Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." He replied before walking away.

"... Okay." Molly says sadly.

While Dare is glaring at his back, and the turns to her sadden friend. "I'm sorry, you know how he is." Before giving her friend a quick hug before following her brother. Molly nods before getting his coffee.

Later at Bart's lab Sherlock is standing at the far end of the lab using a pipette to squeeze a few drops of liquid onto a Petri dish while Dare is sitting on a stool beside him working on her crossword booklet which has 15 pages left before she finishes it.

Mike knocks on the door and brings John in with him. Sherlock glances across at them briefly before looking at his work again, while Dare looks up and gives them a friendly smile before continuing her work as well. John limps into the room, looking around at all the equipment.

"Well, bit different from my day." John commented.

Mike chucks "You've no idea!"

Sherlock who is now sitting down asks "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine or Dare's."

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked.

"I prefer to text." Dare rolled her eyes at his reply, which caused Sherlock to give her a glare which she ignored.

"Sorry. It's in my coat."

John fishes in his back pocket and takes out his own phone.

"Er, here. Use mine." John says.

"Oh. Thank you." Sherlock says.

Giving Mike a brief glace before he stands up and walks toward John. Mike introduces them "It's an old friend of mine, John Watson."

Sherlock reaches John and takes his phone from him. Turning partially away from him, he flips open the keypad and starts to type on it.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock asked John, and at this point Dare had finished her booklet and tossed it at the trash.

John frowns. Nearby, Mike smiles knowingly and Dare started to take an interest in the conversation. John looks at Sherlock as he continues to type.

"Sorry?" John asked confused.

"Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?" while Sherlock briefly raises his eyes to John's before looking back to the phone. John hesitates, and then looks across to Mike, confused. Mike just smiles smugly while Dare is studying John for his reaction.

"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know ...?" john asked before he was interrupted by Sherlock saying "Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you." when Molly walked into the room with a mug of coffee.

He shuts John's phone and hands it back as Molly brings the mug over to him. He looks closely at her as he takes the mug. Her mouth is paler again.

"What happened to the lipstick?" he questioned.

Molly smiled awkwardly "It wasn't working for me."

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." He commented before turning and walking back to his station, taking a sip from the mug and grimacing at the taste, which caused Dare to elbow him in the side and give the other woman an apologetic smile. He gave her a confused look.

"... Okay." She said and gave her friend a sad smile before turning and heading back towards the door.

"How do you feel about the violin?" Sherlock asked.

John looks round at Molly but she's on her way out the door. He glances at Mike who is still smiling smugly, and finally realises that Sherlock is talking to him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

While he is typing on a laptop keyboard as he says "I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end and she" gestures to Dare "is unreachable when she is studying or reading." he looks round at John. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."

He throws a hideously false smile at John, who looks at him blankly for a moment then looks across to Mike. "Oh, you ... you told them about me?"

"Not a word." Mike replied still smiling.

John turned to Sherlock again "Then who said anything about flatmates?"

Sherlock picked up his greatcoat and putting it on and handing the leather jacket to his sister whom left her seat once she realised he was leaving "I did. Told Mike this morning that we must be difficult to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't that difficult a leap."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?"

Sherlock ignores the question, wraps his scarf around his neck, then picks up his mobile and checks it before saying "Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. The three of us ought to be able to afford it." Before he walks towards John.

"We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." He said and put his phone into the inside pocket of his coat, he walks past John and heads for the door.

John turns to look at him "Is that it?"

Sherlock turns back from the door and strolls closer to John again. "Is that what?"

"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?"

"Problem?"

John smiles in disbelief, looking across to Mike for help, but his friend just continues to smile as he looks at Sherlock. John turns back to the younger man.

"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know either of your names."

Sherlock looks closely at him for a moment before speaking. "We know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid."

John looks down at his leg and cane and shuffles his feet awkwardly.

"That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" Sherlock said a bit smug, which caused him to get elbowed by Dare, which he gave her an annoyed look for.

They turn and walk to the door again, opening it and going through, but then leans back into the room again.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is two one B Baker Street." before he click-winks at John, then looks round at Mike. "Afternoon."

Dare only rolls her eyes at her brother's actions before turning to John "My name is Delores Holmes but call me Dare, and we have a common friend, I'm pretty sure he won't introduce you to killers." Giving him a friendly smile before following her brother out the door.

Mike raises a finger in farewell as Sherlock and Dare disappear from the room. As the door slams shut behind them, John turns and looks at Mike in disbelief. Mike smiles and nods to him. "Yeah. They're always like that."

Later John has returned to his bedsit. Sitting down on the bed, he takes out his mobile phone and flicks through the menu to find Messages Sent. The last message reads

**If brother has green ladder**

**arrest brother.**

**SH**

Puzzled, John looks at the message for a long moment, then looks across to the table where his laptop is lying. He pushes himself to his feet and walks over to the table. Shortly afterwards, he has called up a search website called Quest and types "Sherlock Holmes and Delores Holmes" into the search box.

Later at Baker's Street John limps along the road and reaches the door marked 221B just as a black cab pulls up at the kerb. John knocks on the door as Sherlock and Dare get out of the cab.

"Hello." Sherlock says before he reaches through the window of the cab and hands some money to the cab driver.

"Hi." Dare said when Sherlock was paying the cabbie.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes, Miss. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please." Sherlock says when the shake hands.

"And just Dare" Dare said when while shaking hands with John after him and Sherlock were done.

"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive." John commented.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving us a special deal. Owes us a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." Sherlock said.

"Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?" John asked confused.

"Oh no. we ensured it." Dare answered.

Sherlock smiles at John as the front door is opened by a lady with curly gray hair and a short dress who opens her arms to the siblings. "Sherlock and Dare, hello."

Sherlock turns and walks into her arms, hugging her briefly, shortly after Dare also giving the older woman a brief hug. Once Dare steps back and Sherlock presents John to Mrs. Hudson. "Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson."

"Hello." Mrs. Hudson said.

"How do?" John replies.

Mrs. Hudson gestures John inside "Come in."

"Thank you."

"Shall we?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah." Mrs. Hudson replies. The trio go inside and Mrs. Hudson closes the door. Sherlock trots up the stairs to the first floor, then pauses and waits for John to hobble upstairs. Sherlock and Dare share a look as if to say we have to get rid of that cane.' As John reaches the top of the stairs, Sherlock opens the door ahead of them and walks in then Dare follows, revealing the living room of the flat. John follows him in and looks around the room and at all the possessions and boxes scattered around it.

"Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed." John says after getting a good look around the flat.

"Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely." Sherlock says happily looking around the flat. Dare smiled at the flat.

"So we went straight ahead and moved in." Sherlock said at the same tine John says "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out ... Oh."

John pauses, embarrassed, as he realises what Sherlock was saying.

"So this is all ..."

"Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit." Dare said attempting to get rid of the awkwardness in the room.

Sherlock walks across the room and makes a half-hearted attempt to tidy up a little, throwing a couple of folders into a box and then taking some apparently unopened envelopes across to the fireplace where he puts them onto the mantelpiece and then stabs a multi tool knife into them. While Dare tidies up the desk and moves some boxes around. During the siblings half-hearted attempt at cleaning John has noticed something else on the mantelpiece and lifts his cane to point at it. "That's a skull."

"Friend of mine." Sherlock replys "When I say 'friend' ..."

Mrs. Hudson has followed them into the room. She picks up a cup and saucer as Sherlock takes off his greatcoat and scarf and Dare takes of her leather jacket.

"What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms and Dare has her own room of course." Mrs. Hudson says

"Of course we'll be needing two." John says awkwardly.

"Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here. " she Mrs. Hudson says before dropping her voice to a whisper "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones."

John looks across to Sherlock, expecting him to confirm that he and John are not involved in that way but Sherlock appears oblivious to what's being insinuated then turns to Dare who is trying not to laugh at what Mrs. Hudson assumed the relationship between the two men were. Mrs. Hudson walks across to the kitchen, then turns back and frowns at Sherlock and Dare.

"Oh, Sherlock, Dare. The mess you two made." Dare gave the older woman a sheepish look while Sherlock ignored the comment.

As she goes into the kitchen and starts tidying up, John walks over to one of the two armchairs, plumps up a cushion on the chair and then drops heavily down into it. He looks across to Sherlock and Dare who are still tidying up a little.

"I looked you two up on the internet last night." John said.

Sherlock turned around to him, and Dare gave him a curious look "Anything interesting?" Sherlock asked.

"Found your website, The Science of Deduction."

Sherlock smiled proudly "What did you think?"

John gives him a 'you have got to be kidding me' type of look. Sherlock looks hurt and Dare pats him on the back.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." John says dubiously.

"Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone." Sherlock replies defensively, offended that John didn't' like his website.

"How?"

Sherlock smiles and turns away while Dare smirks and stops cleaning and sits in the seat across from John. John turns to Dare and says "And you, how is it possible to graduate high school at the age of 10, and have a masters in criminology, theoretical physics, astronomy, and a doctorate in phsysclogy, and publish a book on the 'Basics of Theoretical Physics.'?! How is that possible you don't look older than 18."

"It's quite simple really" Dare replied still smirking. Sherlock scoffed at her answer, which she raised an eyebrow at him.

"How so?" John asked.

Dare leans forward and John follows her lead and leans forward as well, then she whispers "I'm clever."

John gave her an 'are you serious look' just as Mrs. Hudson comes out of the kitchen reading the newspaper.

"What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same."

Sherlock walks over to the window of the living room as a car pulls up outside. "Four." He corrected. Dare got up from her seat to sand beside her brother to look outside the window.

They look down at the car as someone gets out of it. The vehicle is a police car with its lights flashing on the roof.

"There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time." He explained.

"A fourth?" Mrs. Hudson asked

Sherlock and Dare turn as D.I. Lestrade (who apparently must have picked the lock on the front door ... like you do ...) trots up the stairs and comes into the living room.

"Where?" Sherlock asked.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." The Detective answered.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get us if there wasn't something different." Dare stated.

"You know how they never leave notes?"

"Yeah." Sherlock answered.

"This one did. Will you come?"

"Who's on forensics?"

"It's Anderson."

Sherlock grimaced "Anderson won't work with me."

John noticed that Dare didn't elbow Sherlock at his reaction; she must not get along with this Anderson guy.

"Well, he won't be your assistant."

"I need an assistant."

"What about Dare?" Lestrade said sounding annoyed with how Sherlock is acting.

"I need someone who isn't at my IQ level"

"And I'm no one's assistant" Dare added sounding peeved at the suggestion of being an assistant.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked.

"Not in a police car. We'll be right behind." Sherlock ansewerd.

"Thank you." He said, then looking round at John and Mrs. Hudson for a moment. He turns and hurries off down the stairs. Sherlock waits until he has reached the front door, then leaps into the air and clenches his fists triumphantly before twirling around the room happily. Dare shakes her head at her brother's twisted reaction to murder.

"Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!"

Picking up his scarf and coat he starts to put them on as he heads for the kitchen. While Dare puts on her jacket and scarf and heads down stairs.

"Mrs. Hudson, We'll be late. Might need some food."

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson reminded him.

"Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" Sherlock said not even phased with Mrs. Hudson's reply.

Grabbing a small leather pouch from the kitchen table, he opens the kitchen door and disappears from view. Mrs. Hudson turns back to John.

"Look at him, dashing about! My husband was just the same." Mrs. Hudson said. John grimaces at her repeated implication that he and Sherlock are an item. '_At least she doesn't think that me and Dare are an item_' John thought.

"But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell." Mrs. Hudson continued.

John looks uncomfortable.

Mrs. Hudson turns towards the door "I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg."

"Damn my leg!" John says loudly. His response was instinctive and he is immediately apologetic as Mrs. Hudson turns back to him in shock. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing ..." He bashes his leg with his cane.

"I understand, dear; I've got a hip." She said as she turns towards the door again.

"Cup of tea'd be lovely, thank you."

"Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper."

"Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em."

"Not your housekeeper!"

John has picked up the newspaper which Mrs. Hudson put down and now he looks at the article reporting Beth Davenport's apparent suicide. Next to a large photograph of Beth is a smaller one showing the man who just visited the flat and identifying him as D.I. Lestrade. Before he can read on, Sherlock's voice interrupts him and John looks up and sees him and Dare standing at the living room door. "You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor."

"Yes."

He gets to his feet and turns towards Sherlock as he comes back into the room again while Dare remains by the doorway.

"Any good?" Dare questioned.

"Very good."

"Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths." Sherlock said.

"Mmm, yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet." Dare questioned although it sounded more like a statement.

John quietly replied "Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much."

"Wanna see some more?" Sherlock asked.

John answered fervently "Oh God, yes."

Dare walks Down the stairs when Sherlock spins on his heel and leads John out of the room and down the stairs. John calls out as he follows him down. "Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out."

Mrs. Hudson questioned while standing near the bottom of the stairs "The Three of you?"

Sherlock has almost reached the front door but now turns and walks back towards her While Dare was out the door trying to hail a cab.

"Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock says excitedly.

He takes her by the shoulders and kisses her noisily on the cheek.

"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." she can't help but smile, though, as he turns away and heads for the front door again.

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!"

He walks out onto the street and approaches a black cab that Dare managed to hail down while Dare inside giving the cabbie the location. He and John get in, then the car drives off again and heads for Brixton. The trio sit in silence for a long time while Sherlock sits in the middle with his eyes fixed on his smartphone and Dare is working on a brand new crossword booklet that she managed to swipe when they were still in the flat. John keeps stealing nervous glances at them. Finally Sherlock lowers his phone. "Okay, you've got questions."

"Yeah, where are we going?"

"Crime scene. Next?" Dare answered without looking up from the booklet.

"Why don't you two look alike if you're siblings?"

"Dare was adopted when she was 2 months old." Sherlock answered "Next?"

"Oh, okay. Then who are you two? What do you do?"

"What do you think?" Sherlock answered with another question.

John hesitantly says "I'd say private detectives ..."

"But?" Dare asks looking at John.

"... but the police don't go to private detectives."

"We're consulting detectives. Only ones in the world. I invented the job." Sherlock answered and Dare elbowing his side at his last comment, he gave her an annoyed look before turning back to John.

"What does that mean?"

"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult us."

"The police don't consult amateurs."

The siblings give him a look.

"When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" You looked surprised."

"Yes, how did you know?"

This time Dare answered after putting away her booklet "He didn't know, he saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation as you entered the room...

(Flashback to the lab at Bart's)

John looking around the lab "Bit different from my day."

"... said trained at Bart's, so Army doctor – obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's really bad when you walk but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic." (back to the present) "Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq."

"He said I had a therapist."

"You've got a psychosomatic limp – of course you've got a therapist. " Sherlock said, then added "Then there's your brother."

"Hmm?"

Sherlock holds his hand out "Your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flatshare – you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then." By now John has given him the phone and he turns it over and looks at it again as he talks.

"Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already."

"The engraving." John said.

Engraved on the back of the phone are the words

**Harry Watson**

**From Clara**

**xxx**

Sherlock continues "Harry Watson: clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help: that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking."

"How can you possibly know about the drinking?"

Sherlock smiles "Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone; never see a drunk's without them."

He hands the phone back.

"There you go, you see – you were right."

"I was right? Right about what?"

"The police don't consult amateurs." Dare answered while staring out the window.

Sherlock looks out of the side window, biting his lip nervously as he awaits John's reaction.

"That ... was amazing."

Sherlock and Dare look round, apparently so surprised that they can't even reply for the next four seconds.

"Do you think so?" Dare asks.

"Of course it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary."

"That's not what people normally say." Sherlock says.

"What do people normally say?"

Sherlock and Dare answer at the same time "_Piss off!_"

Sherlock and Dare smile briefly at John, who grins and turns away to look out of the window as the journey continues.

At Brixton. The cab has arrived at Lauriston Gardens and Sherlock, Dare, and John get out and walk towards the police tape strung across the road.

"Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asks.

"Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce; and Harry is a drinker." John confirmed Sherlock's theory.

Sherlock replied looking impressed with himself "Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything."

"And Harry's short for Harriet."

Sherlock stops dead in his tracks. Dare couldn't help but laugh at her brothers expression.

"Harry's your sister." Sherlock stated.

John continues onwards "Look, what exactly am I supposed to be doing here?"

Sherlock furiously says through gritted teeth "Sister!" While Dare is trying to stop giggling.

"No, seriously, what am I doing here?"

Sherlock exasperated, starting to walk again, ignoring John's question "There's always something."

They approach the police tape where they are met by Sergeant Donovan.

"Hello freaks." Donavan said. Dare quickly sobered up and rolled her eyes at Donavan's comment.

"We're here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade." Sherlock said ignoring Donavon's comment.

"Why?"

"We're invited."

"Why?"

Dare replies sarcastically "I think he wants us to take a look."

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?"

Sherlock lifts the tape and letting Dare duck under it before he ducks underneath it "Always, Sally." he breathes in through his nose. "I even know you didn't make it home last night."

"I don't ..." she looks at John "Er, who's this?"

"Colleague of ours, Doctor Watson."

He turns to John.

"Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan." Sherlock says before his voice drips with sarcasm "Old friend.

"A colleague? How do you get a colleague?!"

She turns to John. "What, did he follow you home?"

"Would it be better if I just waited and ..."

Sherlock and Dare both lifted the tape and said "No."

As John walks under the tape, Donovan lifts a radio to her mouth." Freaks are here. Bringing them in."

She leads the trio towards the house. Sherlock and Dare look all around the area and at the ground as they approach. As they reach the pavement, a man dressed in a coverall comes out of the house.

"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again." Sherlock says.

Anderson looks at him with distaste. "It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?"

Sherlock taking in another deep breath through his nose "Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?"

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that."

"Your deodorant told me that."

"My deodorant?"

Dare smirks and says "It's for men."

"Well, of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!" Anderson said getting annoyed by the siblings.

Sherlock says "So is Sergeant Donovan."

Anderson looks round in shock at Donovan. Dare sniffs pointedly.

"Ooh, and I think it just vaporised. May we go in?" Dare said looking smug.

Anderson turning back and pointing at them angrily "Now look: whatever you're trying to imply ..."

"We're not implying anything." Sherlock says.

They head past Donovan towards the front door.

Sherlock says "I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over."

Dare turns back. "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."

Anderson and Donovan stare at them in horror. they smile smugly, then turns and goes into the house. John walks past Donovan, briefly but pointedly looking down to her knees, then follows Sherlock and Dare inside. Sherlock leads them into a room on the ground floor where Lestrade is putting on a coverall. Sherlock points to a pile of similar items.

Sherlock turns to John "You need to wear one of these."

"Who's this?" Lestrade asks when he realises that the homes brought a guest.

"He's with us." Dare answered.

"But who is he?"

"I said he's with us."

John has taken his jacket off and picks up a coverall. He looks at Sherlock and Dare who have each picked up a pair of latex gloves.

John refers to the coverall "Aren't you two gonna put one on?"

Sherlock and Dare just look at him sternly. John shakes his head as if to say, 'Silly me. What was I thinking?!'

Sherlock asks Lestrade "So where are we?"

Lestrade replies while picking up another pair of latex gloves "Upstairs."


	2. Study in Pink, Part 2

Underline are Sherlock's and Dare's deductions, and bold is what their reading.

* * *

Lestrade leads the trio up a circular staircase. He and John are wearing coveralls together with white cotton coverings over their shoes, and latex gloves. Sherlock and Dare are putting the latex gloves on as they go up the stairs.

"I can give you two minutes." Lestrade says.

"May need longer." Sherlock replies casually.

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her."

He leads them into a room two storeys above the ground floor. The room is empty of furniture except for a rocking horse in the far corner. Emergency portable lighting has been set up, presumably by the police. Scaffolding poles hold up part of the ceiling near where a couple of large holes have been knocked through one of the walls. A woman's body is lying face down on the bare floorboards in the middle of the room. She is wearing a bright pink overcoat and high-heeled pink shoes. Her hands are flat on the floor either side of her head. Sherlock walks a few steps into the room and then stops, holding one hand out in front of himself as he focuses on the corpse. Behind him, John looks at the woman's body and his face fills with pain and sadness. The four of them stand there silently for several long seconds, then Sherlock looks across to Lestrade. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." Lestrade stated sounding startled

"You were thinking. It's annoying." Dare slapped his arm. "What?!" Sherlock said sounding surprised and annoyed. "Rude" she said before walking over to the body.

Lestrade and John exchange a surprised look as Sherlock steps slowly forward until he reaches the side of the corpse beside his sister. Their attention is immediately drawn to the fact that scratched into the floorboards by the woman's left hand is the word "Rache." Their eyes flick to her fingernails where the index and middle nails are broken and ragged at the ends with the nail polish chipped, in stark comparison to her other nails which are still immaculate. The woman's index finger rests at the bottom of the 'e' as if she was still trying to carve into the floor when she died. Sherlock and Dare make an instant deduction:

Left handed

Sherlock looks back to the word carved into the floorboards and an immediate suggestion springs into his mind:

**RACHE**

German (n.) revenge

Dare looks at him as if to ask him if it's German. Instantly he shakes his head, a tiny dismissive movement and the suggestion disappears. He looks at the carved word again and overlays the five letters with a clearer type. Next to the 'e' a rapid progression of letters appear and disappear as he tries to complete the word, then the correct letter settles into place to form the word:

Rachel

He squats down beside the body and runs his gloved hand along the back of her coat, then lifts his hand again to look at his fingers:

Wet

Dare reaches into the woman's coat pockets and finds a white folding umbrella in one of them. Running her fingers along the folds of the material, she then inspects her glove again:

Dry

Showing Sherlock what she found before she puts the umbrella back into the woman's pocket after he nods, she moves up to the collar of the coat and runs her fingers underneath it before once again looking at her fingers:

Wet

After she shows Sherlock, Sherlock reaches into his pocket he takes out a small magnifier, clicks it open and closely inspects the delicate gold bracelet on her left wrist...

Clean

... Then the gold earring attached to her left ear...

Clean

... And then the gold chain around her neck ...

Clean

... Before moving on to look at the rings on her left ring finger. The wedding ring and engagement ring flag a different message to him:

Dirty

Sherlock blinks as a rapid succession of conclusions appear in front of his eyes:

Married

Unhappily married

Unhappily married 10+ years

Carefully Sherlock works the wedding ring off the woman's finger and holds it up to look at the inside of the ring. While the outside of the ring is still showing

Dirty

The inside registers as…

Clean

Sherlock shows Dare the ring before lowering the ring and slides it back onto the woman's finger, he has already reached a conclusion about the ring:

Regularly removed

Lifting his hands away from the woman, he looks down at her and makes his final deduction about her:

Serial adulterer

He smiles slightly in satisfaction.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asks.

"Not much." Sherlock answered casually.

Standing up, he takes the gloves off and then gets his mobile phone from his pocket and begins typing on it.

Anderson says from where he is leaning casually against the doorway "She's German. 'Rache': it's German for 'revenge'. She could be trying to tell us something …"

As he has been speaking, Dare has stood up and has walked quickly towards the door and now begins to close it in Anderson's face.

Dare says sarcastically "Yes, thank you for your input."

Slamming the door shut, she turns and walks back into the room. On his phone, Sherlock has called up a menu for "UK Weather". The menu offers five options:

**Maps**

**Local**

**Warnings**

**Next 24 hrs.**

**7 day forecast**

He selects the Maps option.

"So she's German?" Lestrade asks.

Sherlock answers while still looking at his phone "Of course she's not. She's from out of town, though. Intended to stay in London for one night ..." he smiles smugly as he apparently finds the information he needed "... before returning home to Cardiff."

He pockets his phone "So far, so obvious."

"Sorry – obvious?" John asked confused.

"What about the message, though?" Lestrade asked

Sherlock ignored him and looking at John "Doctor Watson, what do you think?"

"Of the message?" John asked still confused.

"Of the body. You're a medical man." Dare told him.

"Wait, no, we have a whole team right outside." Lestrade said.

"They won't work with us." Sherlock replied.

"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here."

"Yes ... because you need us." Dare said.

Lestrade stares at them for a moment, then lowers his eyes helplessly. "Yes, I do. God help me."

"Doctor Watson." Sherlock said

"Hm?" John looks up from the body to Sherlock and Dare and then turns his head towards Lestrade, silently seeking his permission.

Lestrade says a little tetchily "Oh, do as he says. Help yourself."

He turns and opens the door, going outside. "Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes."

Sherlock, John, and Dare walk over to the body. Sherlock squats down on one side of it and John painfully lowers himself to one knee on the other side with Dare beside him helping him down, leaning heavily on Dare to support himself.

"Well?" Sherlock asks.

John says softly "What am I doing here?"

Sherlock replies softly "Helping us make a point."

"I'm supposed to be helping you two pay the rent."

"Yeah, well, this is more fun."

"Fun? There's a woman lying dead."

"Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you'd go deeper."

As Lestrade comes back into the room and stands just inside the doorway, John drags his other leg down into a kneeling position and then leans forward to look more closely at the woman's body. He puts his head close to hers and sniffs, then straightens a little before lifting her right hand and looking at the skin. He kneels up and looks across to Sherlock before turning to Dare. "Yeah ... Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure; possibly drugs."

"You know what it was. You've read the papers." Dare said.

"What, she's one of the suicides? The fourth ...?"

"Sherlock, Dare– two minutes, I said. I need anything you've got." Lestrade said from the doorway.

A Sherlock stand up and reports to Lestrade as Dare helps John when he struggles to get to his feet "Victim is in her late thirties. Professional person, going by her clothes; I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's obvious from the size of her suitcase.

"Suitcase?" Lestrade asks.

John looks around the room but can't see a suitcase anywhere.

"Suitcase, yes. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married." Dare reported.

"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up ..." Lestrade says sounding annoyed.

Sherlock pointed down to her left hand "Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work; look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, so what or rather who does she remove her rings for? Clearly not one lover; she'd never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them. Simple."

"That's brilliant." John said admiringly.

Sherlock looks round at him.

"Sorry." John says apologetically.

"Cardiff?" Lestrade asked

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock said. Dare nodded in agreement.

"It's not obvious to me." John stated.

Sherlock paused as he looks at the other two men "Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring."

"You're being rude Sherlock" Dare said.

"Well it's true" he replied.

"Doesn't mean you have to say it"

He rolls his eyes then turns back to the body. "Her coat: it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but it's dry and unused: not just wind, strong wind – too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance but she can't have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" he gets his phone from his pocket and shows to the other two the webpage he was looking at earlier, displaying today's weather for the southern part of Britain.

"Cardiff." Dare finished for him.

"That's fantastic!" John said amazed.

Sherlock turns to him and speaking in a low voice "D'you know you do that out loud?"

"Sorry. I'll shut up."

"No, it's ... fine." Dare said with a small smile.

"Why d'you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock spins around in a circle to look around the room "Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organiser. Find out who Rachel is."

"She was writing 'Rachel'?"

Sherlock replied sarcastically "No, she was leaving an angry note in German (!) Of course she was writing Rachel; no other word it can be. Question is: why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"

"How d'you know she had a suitcase?"

Dare points down to the body, where her tights have small black splotches on the lower part of her right leg "Back of the right leg: tiny splash marks on the heel and calf, not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious: could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one night."

Sherlock squats down by the woman's body and examines the backs of her legs more closely.

"Now, where is it? What have you done with it?" Sherlock demanded.

"There wasn't a case."

Slowly Sherlock raises his head and frowns up at Lestrade.

Dare frowns at his comment. "Say that again."

"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." Lestrade said

Immediately Sherlock straightens up and heads for the door along with Dare, calling out to all the police officers in the house as he begins to hurry down the stairs. "Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" "Did anyone find a suitcase in the area?"

Lestrade and John follow them out and stop on the landing. Lestrade calls down the stairs. "Sherlock, Dare, there was no case!"

Sherlock slows down almost causing Dare to run into him, but still making his way down the stairs "But they take the poison themselves; they chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs, even you lot couldn't miss them."

"Right, yeah, thanks(!) And ...?" Lestrade question the two, getting annoyed with their vague answers.

"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how, but they're not suicides, they're killings – serial killings." Dare said.

Sherlock holds his hands up in front of his face in delight. "We've got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There's always something to look forward to."

"Why are you saying that?" Lestrade asks.

Sherlock stopped causing Dare to run into him and send him a glare; he ignored it and called up to the others "Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it?(!) Someone else was here, and they took her case." he yelled before muttering to himself "So the killer must have driven her here; forgot the case was in the car."

"She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there." John said.

Dare looked up the stairs "No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking ..."

She stops talking as her and Sherlock make the same realisation.

"Oh." Sherlock said.

His eyes widen and his face lights up, while Dare looks amazed at what she found out.

"Oh!" Sherlock claps his hands in delight.

"Sherlock?" John asks.

Lestrade leans over the railings "What is it, what?"

Sherlock smiles cheerfully to himself "Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake."

"We can't just wait!"

"Oh, we're done waiting!" he says before he starts to hurry down the stairs again, with Dare following behind with enough stopping distance between them.

"Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff: find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" they reach the bottom of the stairs and disappear from view.

Lestrade calls after them "Of course, yeah – but what mistake?!"

Dare comes back into view and runs up a couple of stairs so that she can be seen before she yells up to Lestrade "PINK!"

She hurries off again to catch up to her brother. Lestrade, baffled, turns and goes back into the room while Anderson and his team, who had been waiting on the next landing down, hurry up the stairs and follow him into the room.

"Let's get on with it." Anderson said

Forgotten by everyone else, John hesitates on the landing for a moment and then slowly starts making his way down the stairs. A couple more police officers hurry up and one of them bumps against him, throwing him off-balance and making him lurch heavily against the bannisters. The man hurries on without a word, although his colleague does at least look apologetically at John as he passes. John regains his balance and continues down the stairs.

Shortly afterwards he has removed his coverall and put his jacket back on, and now walks out onto the street. Looking all around, he can see no sign of Sherlock. He walks towards the police tape, still looking around. Donovan, standing at the tape, sees him. "They're gone."

"Who, Sherlock and Dare Holmes?"

"Yeah, they just took off. They do that."

"Are they coming back?"

"Didn't look like it."

"Right." He looks around the area again thoughtfully, unsure what to do.

"Right ... Yes." He turns to Donovan again.

"Sorry, where am I?" John asked.

"Brixton." She answered.

"Right. Er, d'you know where I could get a cab? It's just, er ... well ..." he looks down awkwardly at his walking stick "... my leg."

"Er ..." she steps over to the tape and lifts it for him "... try the main road."

John ducks under the tape "Thanks."

"But you're not their friend. Not Sherlock's anyway."

John turns back towards her.

"They don't have friends. So who are you?" She continued.

"I'm ... I'm nobody. I just met them."

"Okay, bit of advice then: stay away from those two."

"Why?"

"You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off, and she likes the puzzle. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes'll be the one that put it there and Delores Holmes will be the one who planned it."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because they're psychopaths. And psychopaths get bored."

Lestrade calls from the entrance to the house "Donovan!"

Donavan turns and calls replies back to him "Coming."

She turns back towards John as she walks towards the house. Donavan tells John "Stay away from Sherlock and Dare Holmes."

John watches her go for a moment, then turns and begins to limp off down the road. To his right, the phone in a public telephone box begins to ring. He stops and looks at it for a few seconds but then looks down at his watch, shakes his head and continues down the road. The phone stops ringing.

Not long afterwards, John is walking down what may well be Brixton High Road. He tries to hail a passing taxi. "Taxi! Taxi ..."

The taxi passes him by. In Chicken Cottage, the fast food restaurant outside which John is standing, the payphone on the wall begins to ring. John turns and looks as one of the serving staff walks over to it but as he reaches for the phone, it stops. John walks on down the road and shortly afterwards approaches another public telephone box. The phone inside starts to ring. Mystified by this, he pulls open the door, goes inside and lifts the phone. "Hello?"

A man's voice speaks down the phone. "There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?"

John frowns "Who's this? Who's speaking?"

"Do you see the camera, Doctor Watson?"

John looks through the window of the phone box at the CCTV camera high up on the wall of a nearby building. "Yeah, I see it."

"Watch."

The camera, which was pointing directly at the phone box, now swivels away.

"There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" the man's voice asked.

John looks across to the second camera, which is also pointed towards the phone box. "Mmm-hmm."

The camera immediately swivels away.

"And finally, at the top of the building on your right." The man said.

John stares up into the third camera which is watching him but which now turns away.

John says into phone "How are you doing this?"

"Get into the car, Doctor Watson." A black car pulls up at the kerbside near the phone. The male driver gets out and opens the rear door.

"I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you." The man told him.

The phone goes dead. John puts it down and looks thoughtful for a long moment, then apparently decides that there's not much else he can do and turns to leave the phone box.

A few moments later he is sitting in the back seat of the car as it pulls away and drives off. An attractive young woman is sitting beside him, her eyes fixed on her BlackBerry as she types on it. She is pretty much ignoring him.

"Hello." John says.

The woman smiles brightly at him for a moment before returning her gaze to her phone "Hi."

"What's your name, then?"

"Er ... Athena."

"Is that your real name?"

The woman smiles "No."

John nods, then twists to look out of the rear window briefly before turning back again.

"I'm John."

"Yes. I know."

"Any point in asking where I'm going?"

"None at all ..." she turns and smiles briefly at him, then looks back at her phone again. "... John."

"Okay."

Sometime later, the car pulls into an almost-empty warehouse. A man in a suit is standing in the centre of the area, leaning nonchalantly on an umbrella as he watches the car stop and John get out.

In front of the man is a straight-backed armless chair facing him. He gestures to it with the point of his umbrella as John limps towards him leaning heavily on his cane.

"Have a seat, John."

John continues towards him, his voice calm. "You know, I've got a phone." he looks round the warehouse "I mean, very clever and all that, but er ... you could just phone me. On my phone."

He walks straight past the chair and stops a few paces away from the man.

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock and Delores Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place." the man's voice, which has had a pleasant smile in it so far, now becomes a little more stern towards the end of the next phrase.

"The leg must be hurting you. Sit down." He said

"I don't wanna sit down." John replied stubbornly.

The man looks at him curiously "You don't seem very afraid."

"You don't seem very frightening."

The man chuckles. "Ah, yes. The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?"

"What is your connection to Sherlock and Delores Holmes?" he said before giving John a stern look.

"I don't have one. I barely know them. I met them ..." he looks away thoughtfully, then appears surprised as if he hadn't realised until now how little time has passed "... yesterday."

"Mmm, and since yesterday you've moved in with them and now you're solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

"Who are you?"

"An interested party."

"Interested in Sherlock and Dare? Why? I'm guessing you're not friends."

"You've met them. How many 'friends' do you imagine they have? I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having. Dare on the other hand has bearly a handful of friends."

"And what's that?"

"An enemy."

"An enemy?"

"In Sherlock's mind, certainly. Dare might consider me a friend. If you were to ask Sherlock, he'd probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic."

John looks pointedly around the warehouse before giving a sarcastic response "Well, thank God you're above all that."

The man frowns at him. Just then John's phone trills a text alert. He immediately digs into his jacket pocket, takes out the phone and activates it, looking at the message while ignoring the man in front of him. The message reads:

**Baker Street.**

**Come at once**

**if convenient.**

**SH**

"I hope I'm not distracting you." the man says.

John replies casually "Not distracting me at all."

He takes his time looking up from the phone before he pockets it.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock and Delores Holmes?"

"I could be wrong ... but I think that's none of your business."

The man replies a little ominously "It could be."

"It really couldn't."

The man takes a notebook from his inside pocket, then opens it and consults it as he speaks "If you do move into, um ... two hundred and twenty-one B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way."

He closes the notebook and puts it away again.

"Why?"

"Because you're not a wealthy man."

"In exchange for what?"

"Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel ... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what they're up to."

"Why?"

"I worry about them. Constantly."

"That's nice of you." John says insincerely.

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. We have what you might call a ... difficult relationship."

John's phone sounds another text alert. Again he immediately fishes the phone out and looks at the message which reads:

**If inconvenient,**

**come anyway.**

**SH**

John's response to the man's offer "No."

"But I haven't mentioned a figure."

John puts his phone away again "Don't bother."

The man laughs briefly "You're very loyal, very quickly."

"No, I'm not. I'm just not interested."

The man looks at him closely for a moment, then takes out his notebook and opens it again.

The man gestures slightly to make it clear that he is reading a note from the book "'Trust issues,' it says here."

For the first time since their encounter began, John looks a little unnerved. "What's that?"

The man is still looking down at his book "Could it be that you've decided to trust Sherlock and Delores Holmes of all people?"

"Who says I trust them?"

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily."

"Are we done?"

The man raises his head and looks into John's eyes "You tell me."

John looks at him for a long moment, then turns his back on him and starts to walk away.

"I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from them, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."

John stops dead. His shoulders tense and drop and he angrily shakes his head a little. He is clearly furious as he turns back around to face the man.

"My wot?" John says savagely, through bared teeth

The man replies calmly "Show me."

He has nodded towards John's left hand as he speaks, and now he plants the tip of his umbrella on the floor and leans casually on it like a man who is used to having his orders obeyed. John, however, is not going to be intimidated and deliberately shifts his feet under him as if digging in. He raises his left hand, bending it at the elbow, and stands still. His message is clear: if the man wants to look at his hand, he'll have to come to him. Apparently unperturbed by this belligerence, the man strolls forward, hooking the handle of the umbrella over his arm as he reaches for John's hand. John instantly pulls his hand back a little.

"Don't." John says tense.

The man lowers his head and raises his eyebrows at John, almost as if saying, 'Did I mention trust issues?!' John very reluctantly lowers his hand, holding it out flat with the palm down. The man takes it in both of his own hands and looks at it closely.

"Remarkable."

John snatches his hand away "What is?"

The man turns and walks a few paces away "Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock and Delores Holmes, you see the battlefield." he turns towards John again "You've seen it already, haven't you?"

"What's wrong with my hand?"

"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand."

Perhaps unintentionally, John nods his head.

"Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service."

John almost flinches as the man accurately fires off these facts at him. His gaze is fixed ahead of him and a muscle in his cheek twitches repeatedly.

"Who the hell are you? How do you know that?" John said seaming angry and distressed.

"Fire her. She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady."

John's eyes flicker down towards his hand before returning to stare ahead of himself, his face set and struggling to hold back his anger.

"You're not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it." he leans closer to him. Reluctantly John's eyes rise up to meet his.

The man says in a whisper "Welcome back."

(He turns and starts to walk away just as John's phone trills another text alert.

The man casually twirling his umbrella as he goes says "Time to choose a side, Doctor Watson."

John stands fixed to the spot for a few seconds, then turns and glances towards the departing man as, behind John, the car door opens and not-Athena gets out and walks a few paces towards him, her attention still riveted to the BlackBerry held in front of her in both hands. "I'm to take you home."

John half-turns towards her, then stops and takes out his phone to look at the new message. It reads:

**Could be dangerous.**

**SH**

Putting the phone back into his pocket, John holds out his left hand in front of him and studies the lack of tremor coming from it. He smiles wryly.

"Address?" Not-Athena asked.

John turns and walks towards her "Er, Baker Street. Two two one B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first."

Later, John opens the door into his bedsit and switches on the light. Walking inside and closing the door behind him, he goes across to the desk and opens the drawer, taking out his pistol. Checking the clip, he tucks the gun into the back of the waistband of his jeans and turns to leave again.

Later again, the car pulls up outside 221B Baker Street. Not-Athena is still riveted by whatever she's typing on her phone. John looks across to her. "Listen, your boss – any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?"

Not-Athena replies nonchalantly "Sure."

"You've told him already, haven't you?"

She smiles across to him briefly "Yeah."

John nods in resignation and turns to get out of the car but just as he has opened the door, he turns back to her "Hey, um ... do you ever get any free time?"

She chuckles then replies sarcastically "Oh, yeah. Lots."

John waits expectantly. She continues working her phone for a long moment, then turns and looks at him before allowing her gaze to drift past him to the door of 221B "Bye."

"Okay," he gets out and closes the door, then watches the car pull away before turning and walking across the pavement to the front door of 221B. He knocks on the door.


	3. Study in Pink, Part 3

Upstairs in the living room of the flat, Sherlock is lying stretched out on the sofa with his head towards the window and resting on a cushion. With his jacket off and his shirt sleeves unbuttoned and pushed up his arms, he has his eyes closed and he is pressing the palm of his right hand firmly onto the underside of his left arm just below the elbow. After some seconds his eyes snap open wide and he stares fixedly up towards the ceiling, then he sighs out a noisy breath and relaxes. John comes through the door, then stops and stares as Sherlock repeatedly clenches and unclenches his left fist.

"What are you doing? And where is Dare?" John said.

"Nicotine patch. Helps me think." Sherlock replied calmly "And Dare is in her room taking a nap, she should be awake now. " looking at John's cane. John looks guilty.

Sherlock lifts his right hand to show that he has three round nicotine patches stuck to his arm and it was these which he was pressing against his skin to release the substances more quickly. "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work."

John walks further into the room "It's good news for breathing."

"Oh, breathing. Breathing's boring."

"The saddest part is that I, I know you believe that." Dare said coming from the kitchen looking very sleepy. "Hello John. Would you like a cuppa?" The woman greeted John after taking a seat in Sherlock's spot.

"A cuppa would be lovely thank-you" John replied.

"Great, while you're at it can you make me one as well? Two sugars please." The woman replied. Smirking at the look that John was giving her, as if to ask her if she was serious.

"Never mind, you probably won't know where the tea is." Dare got up from her seat and headed to the kitchen turning back to ask what the takes in his tea.

"She's like that sometimes," Sherlock said to answer John's unasked question. "She thinks she's funny" he ended sounding a little annoyed.

"I am funny!" she replied from the kitchen sounding a little offended. Sherlock ignored her statement.

John shock his head the siblings antics then frowns, as he looks more closely at Sherlock's arm "Is that three patches?"

Sherlock presses his hands together in the prayer position under his chin "It's a three-patch problem." He closes his eyes. John looks around the room for a moment, then looks down at Sherlock again.

"Well?" John asked.

Sherlock doesn't respond.

"You asked me to come. I'm assuming it's important."

Sherlock still doesn't respond instantly, but after a couple of seconds his eyes snap open. He doesn't bother turning his head to look at John. "Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Don't wanna use mine. Always a chance that the number will be recognised. It's on the website." Sherlock said just as Dare returned to the room with hers and John's tea.

"Mrs. Hudson's got a phone. Dare has her phone."

"Yeah, she's downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn't hear."

"What about Dare's phone?"

"It's on the website too." Sherlock replied absentmindedly.

As soon as he said that Dare choked on her drink "YOU PUT MY PHONE NUMBER ON YOU'RE WEBSITE?!"

"Is this a problem?"

"Yes! It is a problem, what if some creeper guy starts stalking my phone, or what if. . ."

Sherlock cut her off by stating very seriously "We both know that if any of those possibilities happened myself and 'you know who' would put an immediate end to it."

Dare thought about it and nodded in understanding.

"_Hmm Sherlock seems like the over protective brother. I wonder who 'you know who' is. Maybe her boyfriend perhaps."_ John thought.

"Back to the subject at hand, I was the other side of London." John said showing signs that he was starting to get angry.

"There was no hurry." Sherlock replied mildly. Dare rolled her eyes at his reply.

John glares at him as he gazes serenely at the ceiling before closing his eyes again. Eventually John digs his phone out of his jacket pocket and holds it towards him. "Here."

Without opening his eyes, Sherlock holds out his right hand with the palm up. John glowers at him for a moment, then steps forward and slaps the phone into his hand. Sherlock slowly lifts his arm and puts his hands together again, this time with the phone in between his palms. John turns and walks a few paces away before turning around again. "So what's this about – the case?"

"Her case." Sherlock said softly.

"Her case?"

Sherlock opens his eyes "Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase. First big mistake."

"Okay, he took her case. So?"

"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it." Sherlock said quietly as if to himself

Raising his voice a little, he imperiously holds the phone out towards John, still not looking at him "On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text."

John half-smiles in angry disbelief and says tightly "You brought me here ... to send a text."

Sherlock is oblivious to his anger "Text, yes. The number on my desk."

He continues to hold the phone out while John glowers at him, possibly wondering if he can get away with justifiable homicide. Eventually he stomps across the room and snatches the phone from Sherlock's hand. Sherlock refolds his hands under his chin and closes his eyes but instead of going to the table, John walks over to the window and looks out of it into the street below. Sherlock opens his eyes and tilts his head slightly towards him.

"What's wrong?"

"Just met a friend of yours. Both of you."

Sherlock frowns in confusion, and looks to Dare to ask if she knows who he's talking about. Dare gives him a confused look and shrugs her shoulders.

"A friend?" Sherlock questioned.

"An enemy of Sherlock's, but a friend to Dare." John clarified.

Sherlock immediately relaxes, and Dare nods in understanding.

"Oh. Which one?" Sherlock asked calmly.

"Your arch-enemy, according to him." he looks toward Dare and Sherlock "Do people have arch-enemies?"

Sherlock looks towards him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Did he offer you money to spy on us?"

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No."

"Pity. We could have split the fee three ways. Think it through next time." Dare said starting to sound board with the conversation.

"Who is he?"

Sherlock said softly "The most dangerous man you've ever met, and not my problem right now." more loudly "On my desk, the number.

"John gives him a dark look but Sherlock has already looked away again, John turns to Dare. She gives him an small smile as if to apologise for her brother's rudeness. John walks over to the desk and picks up a piece of paper taken from a luggage label. He looks at the name on the paper. " Jennifer Wilson. That was ... Hang on. Wasn't that the dead woman?"

"Yes. That's not important. Just enter the number."

Shaking his head, John gets his phone out and starts to type the number onto it.

"Are you doing it?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Yes."

When Dare noticed John struggling she got up from her seat and walked over to John and held her hand out for the phone. John gave her an embarrassed smile and handed over his phone

"Have you done it?"

"Calm your tits, I'm almost done." Sherlock glared at her, while John was smirking at her comment. "Okay, I'm done."

"These words exactly: 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out.'"

Dare stats typing as if not really caring about what he said, while John looks across to Sherlock as if concerned at what he just said. Sherlock continues his narration.

"'Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Please come.'"

John frowns at Sherlock "You blacked out?"

"What? No. No!" Sherlock flips his legs around and stands up, taking the shortest route towards the kitchen – which involves walking over the coffee table beside the sofa rather than around it.

"Type and send it. Quickly." Shortly after Sherlock said this Dare finished the text and handed the phone back to John.

Going into the kitchen, Sherlock picks up a small pink suitcase from a chair and brings it back into the living room. Walking over to the dining table, he lifts one of the dining chairs and flips it around, setting it down in front of one of the two armchairs near the fireplace. He puts the suitcase onto the dining chair and sits down in the armchair.

"Have you sent it?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes." Dare answered.

John looks round as Sherlock unzips the case and flips open the lid, revealing the contents. There are a few items of clothing and underwear – all in varying shades of pink – a washbag, and a paperback novel by Paul Bunch entitled "Come To Bed Eyes". As John turns towards the case he staggers slightly in shock as he realises what he's looking at.

"That's ... that's the pink lady's case. That's Jennifer Wilson's case."

"Yes, obviously." Sherlock replied while studying the case closely.

John looks to Dare to see if she denies it she only looks at the case with distaste. John turns back to the continue to stare at the case, Sherlock looks up at him and then rolls his eyes.

"Oh, perhaps I should mention: we didn't kill her." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"I never said you did." John replied.

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send and the fact I that have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption."

"Do people usually assume you two are the murderers?"

"Now and then, yes." Sherlock said smirking, causing Dare thump his head. Sherlock glared at her, she gave him an innocent smile. He rolls his eyes before he puts his hands onto the arms of the armchair and lifts his feet up and under him so that he is perching on the seat with his backside braced against the back rest, then clasps his hands under his chin.

"Okay ..." John limps across the room and drops heavily into the armchair on the other side of the fireplace.

"How did you two get this?

"By looking."

"Where?"

"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention – particularly a man, which is statistically more likely – so obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it the moment he noticed he still had it. Wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realise his mistake. I checked every back street wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens ..."

Cutaway shot of Sherlock and Dare standing on the edge of a rooftop looking down into the streets below as they searches for a glimpse of anywhere the case might have been hidden.

"... and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed." Dare finished for him.

Cutaway shot of Sherlock and Dare back on the ground and rooting through a large skip in an alley before Sherlock unearthed the case buried under some black plastic, then checking the luggage label attached to the handle and showed it to Dare.

"Took us less than an hour to find the right skip."

"Pink. You two got all that because you realised the case would be pink?"

"Well, it had to be pink, obviously." Dare said, probably getting tired of the conversation.

"Why didn't I think of that?" John said to himself.

"Because you're an idiot." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock!" Dare said angry because he was bluntly calling someone she considers a friend an idiot.

John looks across to him, startled. Sherlock not even phased by her outburst, makes a placatory gesture with one hand.

"No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is. Except you Dare." Sherlock said, but he probably added the last part to avoid being hit

Sherlock refolds his hands and then extends his index fingers to point at the case.

"Now, look. Do you see what's missing?"

"From the case? How could I?" John asked.

"Her phone. Where's her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in the case. We know she had one – that's her number there; Dare just texted it."

"Maybe she left it at home."

Sherlock puts his hands onto the arms of the chair and raises himself up so that he can lower his feet to the floor, then sits down properly on the chair.

"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home." Dare stated.

Sherlock puts the slip of paper back into the luggage label on the case and looks at John expectantly.

"Er ..." John looks down at his mobile phone which he has put onto the arm of his chair.

"Why did Dare just send that text?"

"Well, the question is: where is her phone now?" Sherlock replied.

"She could have lost it."

"Yes, or ...?" Dare hinted.

"The murderer ... You think the murderer has the phone?" John said slowly.

"Maybe she left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone." Sherlock said.

"Sorry, what are we doing? Did Dare just text a murderer?! What good will that do?" John asked confused.

As if on cue, his phone begins to ring. He picks it up and looks at the screen for the Caller I.D. It reads:

**withheld**

**calling**

He looks across to Sherlock and Dare as the phone continues to ring.

"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer ..." Sherlock pauses dramatically for a moment until the phone stops ringing "... would panic."

Sherlock flips the lid of the suitcase closed and stands up, walking across the room to pick up his jacket and tosses Dare's to her. As John continues to stare down at his phone, Sherlock and Dare put on their jackets on and walks towards the door.

"Have you talked to the police?" John asks after finally looking up.

"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police." Sherlock replied.

"So why are you both talking to me?"

Sherlock reaches behind the door to take his greatcoat from the hook. As he looks across towards John he notices that something is missing from the mantelpiece.

"Mrs Hudson took my skull." Sherlock answered. Dare rolled her eyes.

"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?"

"Relax, you're doing fine." Sherlock said while putting on his coat.

John doesn't move.

"Well?" Sherlock asked.

"Well what?"

"Well, you could just sit there and watch telly." Dare said.

"What, you want me to come with you two?"

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud and Dare is too smart to need me to explain anything to her. And the skull just attracts attention, so ..."

John smiles briefly.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan." John said.

"What about her?" Sherlock asked while looking away in exasperation, wile Dare took on a dark look at the mention of Donavan.

"She said ... You get off on this. You enjoy it."

"And we said 'dangerous', and here you are." Dare said not looking as mad as before.

Instantly Sherlock turns and walks out of the door with Dare at his heels. John sits there thoughtfully for a few seconds, then almost angrily leans onto his cane to push himself to his feet and head for the door.

"Damn it!"

* * *

Let me know what you think of the story.


	4. Study in Pink, Part 4

Not long afterwards, John catches up to Sherlock and Dare in the street and they continue down the road.

"Where are we going?" John asked.

"Northumberland Street's a five-minute walk from here, it shouldn't be that bad on your leg." Dare answered slowing down a bit to let John catch up.

"You think he's stupid enough to go there?"

"No – I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught." Sherlock said smiling expectantly.

"Why?"

"Appreciation! Applause! At long last the spotlight. That's the frailty of genius, John: it needs an audience." Sherlock said enthusiastically.

"Well they do say that there is a very thin line between insanity and genus." Dare said.

John agrees with a nod before looking pointedly at Sherlock "Yeah."

Oblivious to the implication and Dare's statement, Sherlock spins around to indicate the entire area as he continues down the road. "This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go."

He holds his hands up on either side of his head as if to focus his thoughts. "Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"Dunno. Who?" John asked looking form Sherlock to Dare.

Sherlock shrugs "Haven't the faintest. Hungry?"

Lowering his hands, he leads John and Dare onwards and into a small restaurant. The waiter near the door clearly knows them and gestures to a reserved table at the front window.

"Thank you, Billy." Dare says after he moves a chair directly across the window.

Sherlock takes his coat off, he sits down on the bench seat at the side of the table and immediately turns sideways so that he can see clearly out of the window. As Billy takes the 'Reserved' sign off the table, John sits down on the other bench seat with his back to the window and is directly across from Dare, and takes off his jacket.

Sherlock nodded towards the street "Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it."

"He isn't just gonna ring the doorbell, though, is he? He'd need to be mad." John said

"He has killed four people." Dare pointed out.

"... Okay."

The manager and/or owner of the restaurant comes over, clearly pleased to see Sherlock, and Dare.

"Sherlock, Dare."

They shake hands.

"Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free."

He lays a couple of menus on the table.

"On the house, for you and for your date, and you to Dare."

"Do you want to eat?" Sherlock turns to John.

John being the gentleman he is turns to Dare "Do you want to eat?"

"She's eating." Sherlock said firmly his gaze hasn't turned away from the window.

"Excuse me, but I can speak for myself." Dare said sounding annoyed.

"Yes you can. I simply answered an easy question for you." Sherlock said.

"Yes, but I didn't need you to answer for me. And besides what if I don't feel like eating." Dare challenged.

Sherlock turned away from the window to give his sibling a stern look "You're eating."

"You need to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

"Yes, because you've done so well in the past, and don't have to stay with me." Sherlock's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Like you're one to talk! I don't have to stay with you."

"Really, you would rather stay with Mycroft. Because he isn't as overbearing as me at all." Sherlock said sounding even more sarcastic (if that's possible).

"I don-"

"Ahem" John cut Dare off by clearing his throat awkwardly to try to stop the fight or at least postpone it to a more private area.

Based by the looks from the sibling's faces they forgot they were in a public area. Dare mumbled a quick apology looking embarrassed, while Sherlock turned his attention back to the window with a poker face but his clenched fists gave away that he was still angry.

'_Looks like this isn't the first time they had an argument about something like this._' John thought.

Both of the other men looked awkward about being there during the siblings argument.

"So food for Sherlock's date and Dare" the owner said trying to diffuse the tense atmosphere.

"Yeah, whatever." Dare said still sounding mad.

"I'm not his date." John said to the owner, since Sherlock and Dare weren't going to say anything.

"These two got me off a murder charge." The owner said, ignoring John's statement.

"This is Angelo." Sherlock introduced the owner to John, not looking away from the window and seeming more relaxed than earlier.

Angelo offers his hand to John, who shakes it.

"Three years ago we successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking."

"They cleared my name." Angelo said to John.

"We cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?" Sherlock said.

"Nothing." Angelo looks at John again "But for these two, I'd have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison." Dare said.

"I'll get a candle for the table. It's more romantic." Angelo said to John.

"I'm not his date!" John said indulgently as Angelo walks away.

Sherlock puts his own menu down onto the table.

"You both may as well eat. We might have a long wait." Sherlock said.

Angelo comes back with a small glass bowl containing a lit tea-light. He puts it onto the table and gives John a thumbs-up and Dare a wink before turning and walking away again.

"Thanks(!)" John says tetchily.

"I wonder how damaged Angelo thinks I am to think that Sherlock would drag me to his date." Dare muttered to herself. Unknown to her, John heard her.

_'Damaged?'_ John thought.

Later, John has a plate of food in front of him and is eating from it. While Dare pushed her food around her plate and nibbled on her garlic bread, If either of the other men noticed, they didn't comment on it. Sherlock's attention is fixed out of the window and he is quietly drumming his fingers on the table.

"People don't have arch-enemies." John was the first one to speak after their food was brought over.

Dare gives him a curious look, it takes a moment but Sherlock finally looks round.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock said caught off gurd with the random statement.

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn't happen."

"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull." Sherlock said disinterestedly, looking out the window again.

"So who did I meet?"

"What do real people have, then, in their 'real lives'?" Sherlock asked.

"Friends; people they know; people they like; people they don't like ... Girlfriends, boyfriends ..."

"Yes, well, as I was saying – dull."

"Only my brother's would find relationships dull" Dare said before taking a drink from her wine.

"You don't have a girlfriend, then?" John questioned Sherlock.

"Girlfriend? No, not really my area." Sherlock replied still looking out the window

"Mm." a moment passes before John realises the possible significance of this statement.

"Oh, right. D'you have a boyfriend?"

Sherlock looks round at him sharply, and Dare almost chokes on her wine.

"Which is fine, by the way." John added.

"I know it's fine." Sherlock replied. Dare is using all her self-control to not laugh at what John is assuming about Sherlock, as well as the fact that Sherlock hasn't noticed yet.

John smiles to indicate that he wasn't signifying anything negative by what he said.

"So you've got a boyfriend then?" John questioned Sherlock.

"No."

John still smiling, though his smile is becoming a little fixed and awkward "Right. Okay. You're unattached. Like me." He looks down at his plate, apparently rapidly running out of things to say. "Fine." He clears his throat. "Good."

He continues eating. Sherlock looks at him suspiciously for a moment but then turns his attention out of the window again. However, he then appears to replay John's statement in his head and looks a little startled. Turning his head towards John again, he starts speaking rather awkwardly but rapidly speeds up and is almost babbling by the time John interrupts him. "John, um ... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for any ..."

John interrupted him "No." He turns his head briefly to clear his throat. "No, I'm not asking. No."

He fixes his gaze onto Sherlock's, apparently trying to convey his sincerity.

"I'm just saying, it's all fine."

Sherlock looks at him for a moment, then nods. "Good. Thank you." Then turns his attention back to the street. John looks away with an bemused expression on his face as if asking himself, 'What the heck was all that about?!

"So what about you Dare. In do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?" John asked before he turned to Dare, to see that her hand was over her mouth and her shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. He glared at her.

Once Dare calmed down she answered Johns question "Actually I just got out of a really bad relationship, so it will be a while before I start dating again."

Unknown to other two, a brief flash of anger crossed Sherlock's face at the mention of Dare's past relationship.

"Oh, that's good. You already know that you don't have to be in a relationship."

Dare gives him a smile.

Just then, Sherlock nods out of the window. "Look across the street. Taxi."

Dare lifts her head to look out the window while John twists in his seat to look out of the window where a taxi has parked at the side of the road with its back end towards the restaurant.

"Stopped. Nobody getting in, and nobody getting out." Sherlock said as Dare went back to playing with her food.

In the rear seat of the taxi the male passenger is looking through the side windows as if trying to see somebody particular.

"Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?" Sherlock said to himself.

"That's him?" John asked.

"Don't stare."

John looked round at him "You're staring."

"We can't both stare."

Getting to his feet, he grabs his coat and scarf and heads for the door with Dare close behind him, since se didn't find it warm enough to take off her coat. John picks up his own jacket and follows ... completely forgetting to take his walking cane with him. Outside the door, Sherlock shrugs himself into his coat while along with Dare keeping their eyes fixed on the taxi. The passenger continues to look around him, then turns and looks out the back window. His gaze falls on the restaurant and he looks at it for a few moments while Sherlock and Dare stare back at him, then the man turns towards the front of the vehicle and the taxi begins to pull away from the kerb. Sherlock immediately heads towards it without bothering to check the road that he's running into and is almost run over by a car coming from his left. The driver slams on the brakes and stops the car but Sherlock, always keen to take the quickest route, allows his forward impetus to carry him onto the top of the bonnet. He rolls over the bonnet, lands on his feet on the other side and then runs after the taxi. "Sherlock don't run into traffic!" Dare yelled before running , using the same route her brother took, at the same time as the driver of the car angrily sounds his horn, John puts one hand on the bonnet and vaults over the front of the car, apologising to the driver as he goes. "Sorry."

He chases after Sherlock and Dare, who runs a few yards up the road before realising that they're not going to catch the taxi and slows to a halt. John catches up and stops beside him.

"I've got the cab number." John said after catching up to them.

"Good for you." Sherlock said.

Dare looked a John with a smirk.

"What?" John asked after he caught her staring.

"Nothing" she said before turning her attention back to Sherlock.

Sherlock brought his hands up to either side of his head and concentrates, calling up a mental map of the local area and overlaying it with images of the streets along the route which he calculates that the taxi must take.

"Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights." Sherlock said.

Having worked out the route, he lifts his head and sees a man unlocking the door to a nearby building. Instantly his mind flashes up a signpost saying, "ALTERNATIVE ROUTE" Sherlock races towards the man and grabs him, shoving him out of the way before charging into the building.

Dare and John hurry after Sherlock, John raises an apologetic hand to the man as he goes.

"Sorry."

The three of them race up the stairs and out onto a metal spiral fire escape staircase leading to the roof. Sherlock, the lanky git, takes the steps two or even three at a time Dare seems to not have a problem keeping up, John struggles to keep up with them as he scurries up behind them.

"Come on, John." Sherlock said.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Sherlock runs to the edge and looks over before seeing a shorter metal spiral staircase leading down the side of the building to another door one floor lower. He gallops down the stairs and climbs onto the railing before leaping across the gap to the next building with Dare at his heals. John scrambles onto the railing and follows. Sherlock runs across to the other side of the roof and again leaps across to the next building Dare not far behind. John races after him, but then skids to a halt as he realises that the gap may be too big for him to jump across. As if in sympathy, pedestrian traffic lights on the ground change from the green "It is safe to cross" sign to the red "Stop and wait" sign. John hesitates, looking down at the drop beneath him.

"Come on, John. We're losing him!" Sherlock said.

"Come on John you can do it!" Dare said.

John backs up a few paces and braces himself. As the traffic lights change to "Safe to cross" again, he takes a run-up and leaps the gap. Dropping down onto a walkway along the side of the building, the boys run onwards. As the taxi continues its journey on the ground, the boys gallop down another metal staircase, then run to a ledge and drop down into an alleyway before running onwards again. Sherlock leads John down the alleyway as, in his head, a map shows their location in comparison to where the taxi must be. Their paths are beginning to get closer and they are heading towards a point where Sherlock, Dare, and John will exit the alleyway onto D'Arblay Street, which the taxi is just turning into. Sherlock turns the corner and races down the last part of the alley, only to see the taxi drive past the end, heading to the left.

"Ah, no!" Sherlock says angrily.

Without breaking stride, he races out of the end of the alley and turns right.

"This way." Sherlock said, with Dare easily keeping stride with him.

Instinctively John turns left in pursuit of the taxi.

"No, this way!" Sherlock says impatiently.

"Sorry." John said after once again following Sherlock and Dare.

In Sherlock's mind-map, he picks a new point where he, Dare, and John can intercept the cab. The trio run down the street, taking a shorter route than the taxi which is being diverted by various road signs taking it the long way around. They head down more alleyways and side streets towards the interception point in Wardour Street and finally, at the precise point which his mental map predicted, Sherlock races out of a side street and hurls himself into the path of the approaching cab, which screeches to a halt as he crashes hard into the bonnet. Scrabbling in his left coat pocket, Sherlock pulls out an I.D. badge and flashes it at the driver as he runs to the right hand side of the cab.

"Police! Open her up!"

Panting heavily, Dare goes to the rear door and tugs it open and stares in at the male passenger, who looks back at her and Sherlock who just joined her anxiously. Instantly both Dare and Sherlock straighten up in exasperation just as John joins him.

"No." Sherlock said.

He leans down again to look at the passenger a second time.

"Teeth, tan: what – Californian?"

"L.A., Santa Monica. Just arrived." Dare said looking down at something in front of the passenger.

Sherlock grimaces.

"How can you possibly know that?" John asked.

"The luggage." Dare answered simply.

John looks down at the suitcase on the floor of the cab and its luggage label showing that the man has flown from LAX **Los Angeles International Airport** to LHR **London Heathrow Airport**.

"It's probably your first trip to London, right, going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you?" Sherlock said to the passenger.

"Sorry – are you guys the police?" the passenger asked.

"Yeah." Sherlock flashes the I.D. badge briefly at the man "Everything all right?"

"Yeah." The passenger said smiling while looking at Dare.

Sherlock pauses for a moment as if wondering how to finish this conversation not noticing the looks he was giving Dare, then Dare jumps in giving the man a warm smile.

"Welcome to London." She said while causing the male passenger to gain a small blush, which didn't go unnoticed by Sherlock.

He immediately grabs Dare's wrist and walks away, leaving John staring blankly for a moment before he steps closer to the taxi door and looks in at the passenger.

"Er, any problems, just let us know." John said to the passenger.

As the man looks away from Dare and Sherlock before he nods, John smiles politely and slams the cab door shut. The man looks round to the taxi driver in bewilderment. John walks to where Sherlock and Dare has stopped a few yards behind the vehicle. Dare is rubbing her wrist and is glaring at Sherlock, Sherlock doesn't look bothered.

"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down." John said.

"Basically." Dare said sounding slightly tired.

"Not the murderer."

"Not the murderer, no." Sherlock said exasperated.

"Wrong country, good alibi".

"As they go."

John notices as Sherlock switches the I.D. card from one hand to another.

"Hey, where-where did you get this? Here."

He reaches for the card and Sherlock releases it.

"Right." He looks at the name on the card. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"Yeah. I pickpocket him when he's annoying. You can keep that one, I've got plenty at the flat."

"Mature isn't he" Dare said smirking at Sherlock. He gave her a look.

John nods, then looks down at the card again before lifting his head and giggling silently.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing, just: 'Welcome to London'."

Dare giggles at this. Sherlock chuckles, then looks down the road to where a police officer has apparently gone to investigate why the cab has stopped in the middle of the road. The passenger has got out and is pointing down the road towards the trio.

"Got your breath back?" Sherlock said to his companions.

"Ready when you are." John answered.

"What are we waiting for then." Dare said before taking off before the boys.

They look at each other before they turn and run off down the road following the green eyed raven haired girl.

* * *

Sorry about not updating in a while. My friends got me into an anime called "Attack on Titan" and it pretty much distracted me for a while, and not to mention that I tend to procrastinate from time to time. AoT is a cool show but its not for everyone. But anyways it got me thinking about if I should put Dare into other fandom worlds (if that's what its called). Also Ii realised i never mentioned what Dare looked like, oh well I'll describe her sometime along the way.

Well on a different note for the reason why Sherlock is bossy and protective and why she has to live with him, as well as what Dare said about being 'damaged' will be explained at the end of the last chapter for the 'Study in Pink.'

So tell me what you think about this chapter or the story in the reviews. Or if you want to see Dare in a different fandom world eventually.


	5. Study in Pink, Part 5

**Just a heads up, their will be some swearing, references to self harm and suggestion of suicide attempts in this chapter. **

**Bold are Dare's and Sherlock's deductions**

_Italics are Dare's/Sherlock's flashbacks_

Underline are flashbacks when Dare and/or Sherlock are not there

* * *

The trio arrived back and walk along the hallway, breathing heavily. John hangs his jacket on a hook on the wall while Dare threw her coat over the banister over bottom of the bannisters before dropping on the floor the curling into a ball while Sherlock drapes his coat over Dare's coat .

"Okay, that was ridiculous." John said before asking concernedly "Is she going to be okay?"

They lean side by side against the wall, still trying to catch their breath.

"Yeah she'll be fine, she's just strange." Sherlock replied, thus causing him to get hit on the shin.

"That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done." John said.

"And you invaded Afghanistan." Sherlock replied.

John giggles and after a moment Sherlock also begins to laugh, and it seems that Dare fell asleep on the floor.

"That wasn't just me." John said after he stopped giggling.

Sherlock chuckles.

"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"

"Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway." Sherlock said after becoming more serious and waving his hand dismissively.

"So what were we doing there?"

Sherlock clears his throat, "Oh, just passing the time."

He looks at John. "And proving a point."

"What point?"

"You."

He turns and calls loudly towards the door to Mrs Hudson's flat. Making Dare jump, and look around disoriented. "Mrs. Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."

"Says who?"

"Says the man at the door." Dare said rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

John turns his head towards the door just as someone knocks on it three times. He turns back to look at Dare and Sherlock in surprise. Sherlock smiles, Dare still looks sleepy. John stares at them for a moment, then walks along the hall to answer the door. Sherlock leans his head against the wall and blows out a breath. John opens the door and finds Angelo standing outside.

"Sherlock texted me." Angelo said smiling as he holds up John's walking cane. "He said you forgot this."

John stares at the cane in surprise, then takes it.

He turns and looks down the hall to Sherlock and Dare who has gotten up and stood beside her brother. Both of them are grinning at John.

John turns back to Angelo "Er, thank you. Thank you."

As he comes back in and closes the door, Mrs. Hudson comes out of her flat and hurries over to the treo. She sounds upset and tearful as she speaks. "Sherlock, what have you done?"

Dare looks at the older woman in confusion.

"Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock said looking confused as well.

"Upstairs."

Sherlock turns and hurries up the stairs with Dare not far behind him, John following them. Sherlock opens the living room door and goes inside, where he finds D.I. Lestrade sitting casually in the armchair facing the door. Other police officers are going through Sherlock and Dare's possessions.

"What the hell?!" Dare said once she saw what was happening in their apartment.

Sherlock storms over to Lestrade "What are you doing?"

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." Lestrade replied.

"You can't just break into our flat."

"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?"

Lestrade looks round at his officers before looking back to Sherlock innocently "It's a drugs bust."

"Seriously?! These two, junkies?! Have you met them?!"

Sherlock turns and walks closer to John, biting his lip nervously. While Dare finds the carpet very interesting.

"John ..." Sherlock says.

"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." John said to Lestrade.

"John, now is a good time to shut up" Dare said, looking very guilty.

"Yeah, but come on ..." John turns to look into Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock holds his gaze for a long moment before he realises how serious he's looking.

"No." John said.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You?"

"Shut up!" Sherlock replied angerly.

John turns to Dare "You to?"

"You try living in hell your entire life." Dare replied angerly.

John looks at her shocked. Sherlock didn't seem bothered by her statement.

John turns back to Lestrade.

"I'm not your sniffer dog." Sherlock said.

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade nods towards the kitchen.

"What, An..."

The closed doors to the kitchen slide open and reveal several more officers in there searching through the room. Anderson turns towards the living room and raises his hand in sarcastic greeting.

"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Sherlock says angrily, Dare is glaring at every cop in the apartment.

Oh, I volunteered." Anderson said venomously.

Sherlock turns away, biting his lip angrily.

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Lestrade said.

Donovan comes into view from the kitchen just as Anderson walked back in the kitchen. Donavan holds a small glass jar with some white round objects in it.

"Are these human eyes?" Donavan said disgusted.

"Put those back!" Sherlock said.

"They were in the microwave!"

"It's an experiment."

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade calls loudly.

He stands up and turns to Sherlock.

"Or you two could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"This is childish." Sherlock starts to pace angrily.

"Well, I'm dealing with children. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you two in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"

"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully us?" Sherlock stopped pacing and was glaring at him.

"It stops being pretend if they find anything."

"We are clean!" Sherlock said loudly.

"Is your flat? All of it?" Lestrade said. Sherlock looks at Dare from the corner of his eye.

"I don't even smoke." He unbuttons the cuff of his left shirt and pulls it up to show the nicotine patch on his lower arm.

"Neither do I." Lestrade pulls up the right sleeve of his own shirt to show a similar patch on his arm. Sherlock rolls his eyes and turns away and they both pull their sleeves back down again.

Anderson walks in holding a bottle of pills. "Well, what do we have here." Anderson says with a satisfied smirk.

"Where the fuck did you find those?!" Dare giving the coldest glare that made everyone except Sherlock take a step back.

'_If looks could kill, Anderson would be 6 feet under._' John thought, feeling slightly nervous about how Dare was acting.

Dare took a couple steps toward Anderson before Sherlock wrapped his arms around her wast preventing her from moving any closer to Anderson.

"Well someone isn't as clean as we thought she was." Anderson said, hiding his nervousness very well, and actually went unnoticed to the siblings because of their anger.

"If you had any brain cells in that idiotic head of yours, you would obviously be able to read that those are prescription pills." Dare said venomously.

"Anderson put those back." Lestrade warned.

Anderson brings up the bottle, making a show of reading it "Oh yes I can read, and it says here that these are _very_ strong anti-depressant pills, and the first warning is, do not operate machinery while taking the pills. Lestrade you actually let her work on cases while on these."

Dare struggles to get out of Sherlock's grip, while Sherlock is trying to get her to calm down while glaring daggers at Anderson.

"You take anti-depressants? Since when?" Donavan asked very snooty.

"I don't know maybe some time between cutting myself and committing suicide." Dare's reply practically dripping with sarcasm causing everyone to look at her shocked.

"You cut yourself?!" John said surprised.

Dare stopped struggling then lifted the cuffs of her sleeves revealing a series of precise scars on her wrists (A/N she has only been wearing long sleeve shirts since John meet her). There was a collective silence in the apartment. Sherlock closed his eyes, as if seeing the scars caused him unbearable pain. Dare pulled down her sleeves.

"So did you actually commit suicide?" John asked the question that everyone was thinking.

"Yes." Dare replied monotone voice.

Sherlock pulled her closer to him, as if to reassure himself that she was still there.

Everyone gave Dare looks of shock pity except Donavan and Anderson. Both of whom thought she said that only to get everyone to pity them. Lestrade gave her an apologetic look.

"Anderson, put the pills back. I already knew about them." Lestrade said quietly.

"Tch." Was Anderson's reply, but followed orders and put the pills away.

"Back to the matters at hand, how about we work together. We've found Rachel." Lestrade said, effectively changing the subject as well as catching the siblings attention.

"Who is she?" Sherlock asked looking at him.

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."

"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" Sherlock said frowning.

"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson points to the pink suitcase in the living room. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopaths."

Sherlock gives him a disparaging look "We are not a psychopaths, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath and Dare doesn't fit in with normal society. Do your research."

He looks back to Lestrade "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. We need to question her."

"She's dead."

"Excellent!" Sherlock said. Dare face palmed.

John looks startled at this.

"How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be." Sherlock asked as he walked to Lestrade, letting go of Dare's waste. Dare moved to stand beside John.

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." Lestrade answered.

Both John and Dare grimace sadly and turn away. Sherlock, on the other hand, just looks confused.

"No, that's ... that's not right. How ... Why would she do that? Why?"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?(!) Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Anderson said rudely.

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." Sherlock said with a exasperated look on his face.

He begins to pace back and forth across the room again.

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he ... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John stated.

Sherlock stops and turns to him, "Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?"

John stares at him.

*Cough* Insensitive *cough* Dare said awkwardly. Sherlock hesitates as he realises what Dare said and that everyone in the flat has stopped what they're doing and has fallen silent. He glances around the room and then looks awkwardly at John and Dare.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked.

John also glances around at the others before turning back to Sherlock "Bit not good, yeah." Dare shakes her head sadly.

Sherlock shakes it off and steps closer to John and Dare, looking at John intently.

"Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?" Sherlock asked.

"Please, God, let me live." John replied.

Sherlock turns to Dare. "Please be quick." Dare answered his unasked question.

"Oh, use your imagination!" Sherlock said exasperated.

"I don't have to." Dare and John answered at the same time.

Sherlock seems to recognise the look of pain in John's face that was reflected his own with Dare's answer. He pauses momentarily and blinks a couple of times, shifting his feet apologetically before continuing.

"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever ... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever." he starts to pace again.

"Are you saying I'm not clever?!" Dare said offended.

"Different circumstances." Sherlock said "She's trying to tell us something."

Mrs. Hudson comes to the door of the living room "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock, Dare."

"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." Sherlock said.

"Taxi?" Dare said to herself before going to investigate the 'taxi' they supposedly ordered.

Dare purposely left her coat back in the building thinking that she was only going to clear up the confusion.

Once closed the front door to the building Dare sees the taxi parked outside the door, with who she assumed was the cabbie leaning casually against the cab wearing the badge for licensed cabbie within a leather holder.

**Clothes are over 3 years old. Freshly laundered. **

"Taxi for Sherlock and Delores 'olmus" the cabbie said.

"Umm. . . Hello, I didn't order a cab, and I'm pretty sure that my brother didn't order one either." Dare said apologetically as she started to get suspicious.

The cabbie smirked "You haven't figured it out yet, have Mrs. 'olmus"

Dsre frowned in confusion "Figured out what?" Dare asked cautiously.

"Well I wouldn't want to take away the fun of a good puzzle" the cabbie said still smirking.

Dare now very confused, wondered what puzzle she would be working, searched through all her memories from the last couple days. Coming up to the memory of what Sherlock has said the last couple of days that would be of importance. These certain statements stood out.

_I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They're always so desperate to get caught._

_This is his hunting ground, right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go._

_Think! Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?_

_Why a taxi? Oh, that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?_

Dare gasped in surprise, looking at the cabbie wide eyed. Before grinning on the brilliance of his plan. Then wearing a poker face when she realises that this man could kill her.

"You're the taxi that stopped outside the Northumberland street." Dare said "It was you not the passenger."

"See? No-one ever thinks about the cabbie. It's like you're invisible. Just the back of an 'ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer." The cabbie said.

"Is this a confession?"

"Oh, yeah. An' I'll tell you what else: if you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet and they can take me down, I promise. You can call you brother too. Since I know how you strive for your brothers approval" he finished sarcastically.

"Why?" Dare said, struggling to contain her anger from his last statement.

"'Cause you're not gonna do that."

"Am I not?"

"I didn't kill those four people, Mrs. 'olmes. I spoke to 'em ... and they killed themselves. An' if you get the coppers now, I promise you one thing."

He leans forward.

"I will never tell you what I said."

Dare stares at him. After a moment, Jeff straightens up and starts to walk around the front of the cab.

"No-one else will die, though, and I believe they call that a result." Dare said.

Jeff stops and turns back towards her.

"An' you won't ever understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care about?" He turns again and continues around to the driver's door. Getting in, he sits down and closes the door, settling into his seat and ignoring Dare. Dare quickly debates how much she really wants the answer to a very interesting before she walks closer to the cab, looking up again at the flat windows, then she bends and looks into the open side window of the cab. "If I wanted to understand, what would I do?"

The cabbie turns to look at her "Let me take you for a ride."

"So you can kill me too?"

"I don't wanna kill you, Mrs. 'olmes or your brother. Since it seems you don't want your brother to come, I'm just gonna talk to yer ... and then you're gonna kill yourself. . . Again." He finished smirking again.

He turns to face the front again. Dare straightens up, her eyes lost in thought as she considers the situation. Jeff calmly sits gazing out of the front window, then smiles in satisfaction as the rear door opens. The cab dips as Dare gets in and then the door slams shut. Jeff starts the engine and drives down the street away from the flat.

Back at the apartment

Sherlock continues pacing as Mrs. Hudson looks around the room. "Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?"

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson." John explained to the older woman.

"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers." Mrs. Hudson said anxiously

With his back to the door, Sherlock stops and shouts out. "Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."

"What? My face is?!" Anderson said.

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Lestrade said trying to speed up the process.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Anderson yelled annoyed.

"Your back, now, please!"

"Come on, think. Quick!" Sherlock said to himself.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs Hudson said.

Sherlock turns to her and shouting furiously "MRS HUDSON!"

No one noticed that would have been when Dare would get mad at Sherlock for yelling at Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs Hudson turns and hurries away down the stairs. Sherlock stops and looks around as he finally realises something. "Oh."

He smiles in delight. "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes!"

He walks across the room and then turns back to the others.

"She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him." He starts pacing again.

"When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer." Sherlock explained.

"But how?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock stops and stares at him "Wha...? What do you mean, how?"

Lestrade shrugs.

"Rachel!" Sherlock looks at everyone triumphantly. They all look back at him blankly. "Don't you see? Rachel!"

Still everyone looks blank. Sherlock laughs in disbelief.

"Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being us? It must be so relaxing." Sherlock said. "Rachel is not a name." He said more sternly.

"Then what is it?" John said equally stern.

"John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address." Sherlock told John.

John looks at the label on the suitcase and reads out the address. "Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk."

Sherlock has sat down at the dining table and is looking at his computer notebook "Oh, we've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, it's e-mail enabled."

He has pulled up Mephone's website and types the email address into the 'User name' box.

"So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address ..." Sherlock explained.

He begins to type into the 'Password' box. " ... and all together now, the password is?"

John walks over to stand behind him "Rachel."

"So we can read her e-mails. So what?" Anderson said.

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her." Sherlock said.

"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade says.

"We know he didn't." John said.

Sherlock looks at the screen impatiently "Come on, come on. Quickly!"

Mrs Hudson trots up the stairs and comes to the door again "Sherlock, dear, the taxi."

Sherlock gets to his feet and walks over towards her. "Mrs. Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?"

John sits down on the chair which Sherlock vacated and watches a clock spinning round on the website as it claims that the phone will be located in less than three minutes. Sherlock turns to Lestrade "We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter."

Mrs. Hudson looks around anxiously.

"We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last for ever." Sherlock said to Lestrade.

"We'll just have a map reference, not a name." Lestrade replied.

"It's a start! Dare explain it to him." Sherlock said anxiously.

Lestrade sighs, then looks for Dare to ask her to calm down her brother, frowning when he can't see her. John look s for her as well when he realised she hasen't said anything for a while.

"Sherlock, where is Dare?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock stopped pacing, and looked around the apartment for his sister.

On the computer, a map has appeared and is now zooming in on the location of the phone.

"Sherlock ..." John said.

Sherlock brings his thoughts away from his absent sister, assuming she just stepped out for a moment. "It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had." Sherlock said to Lestrade.

"Sherlock ..." John said again.

Sherlock hurries across the room to look over John's shoulder "What is it? Quickly, where?"

The map is now indicating the precise location of the phone.

"It's here. It's at two two one Baker Street." John said.

Sherlock straightens up "How can it be here? How?"

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Lestrade suggested.

"What, and me and Dare didn't notice it? Us? We didn't notice?" Sherlock said.

"Anyway, we texted him and he called back." John said to Lestrade.

Lestrade turns to call out to his colleagues "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim ..."

Sherlock tunes him out as he begins to remember questions he asked to John and Dare earlier.

_'Who do we trust, even if we don't know them?'_

_'Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?'_

In a cutaway, a black taxi drives down a rainy street with its sign lit indicating that it's for hire.

At the railway station Sir Jeffrey Patterson walks to the cab rank and raises his hand to a taxi.

'_Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?'_

Sherlock stands lost in thought in the flat.

James Phillimore walks across the road, huddled against the pouring rain as a vacant taxi drives along the road behind him.

Beth Davenport looks around despairingly as she realises that she doesn't have her car keys. Nearby, a vacant cab pulls up.

In the flat, Sherlock turns, his mind racing as he puts all the clues together.

Jennifer Wilson arrives at a London terminus and gets into the back of a taxi.

Sherlock turns his head looking in the direction of the window, still putting it all together.

"Sherlock, you okay?"

"What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine." Sherlock said vaguely still looking towards the window.

"So, how can the phone be here?" John asked.

"Dunno."

John gets up to get his own phone out of his jeans pocket "I'll try it again."

"Good idea."

Sherlock goes to look out the window.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

Outside, a familiar raven haired girl gets inside a taxi in front of the apartment.

Sherlock gets a panicked expression, before running out of the room.

John frowns as Sherlock leaves the room, and calls after him.

A cab driving away is heard in the apartment.

"You sure you're all right?" John calls out to him

Sherlock ignores him and continues to hurry down the stairs

Downstairs, Sherlock opens the front door and runs to the side walk as he shrugs himself into his coat.

Sherlock only manages to catch a glimpse of the cab, seeing his younger sister look out the back window in the back seat, looking slightly scared.

* * *

I have been having some family issues, and I think it showed a bit in this chapter.

I want to than skendo for the idea of Dare getting kidnapped instead of Sherlock, and thanks to everyone that reviewed. Reviews help me write chapters faster. any ways thanks for reading.


	6. Study in Pink, Part 6

Yay new chapter! Everything is explained about Dare's past. And that I have decided that i will put Dare in another fandom, I left two hints (more like billboards) about which one in this chapter. I'm not giving up on this story though, I'm going to keep working on it till I finish it. I'll just make a new story on my profile after I finish season three. Basically two different stories about Dare. But what I have planned for Dare involves the other fandom, just letting you know. Sorry if there is any grammar or spelling mistakes in this chapter.

_Italics are Dare/Sherlock's flashbacks_

Warning suicide is mentioned quite a bit in this chapter

* * *

Upstairs, John has his phone held to his ear as he looks out of the window. The cab can be heard as it pulls away. John sees Sherlock running after it a minute later.

"He's chasing a cab." John said confused.

He turns to Lestrade.

"It's Dare. She just drove off in a cab and Sherlock ran after it." John finished sounding confused.

Donovan, standing beside Lestrade, tuts in irritation. "I told you, they do that."

She turns to Lestrade "They bloody left again."

She walks back into the kitchen, talking loudly "We're wasting our time!"

"I'm calling the phone. It's ringing out." John said to Lestrade.

In the cab, a phone is ringing. Dare watches Jeff (which she learned from his licence displayed on the dashboard) as the pink phone – which Jeff has put in the well beside his seat – continues to ring.

Back in the flat, Lestrade watches John as he continues to hold his phone to his ear.

"If it's ringing, it's not here." Lestrade said

John lowers his phone and reaches for the computer notebook. "I'll try the search again."

Donovan comes back to confront Lestrade "Does it matter? Does any of it? You know, they're just lunatics, and they'll always let you down, and you're wasting your time. All our time."

Lestrade stares at her for a long moment as she holds his gaze, then he sighs.

"Okay, everybody. Done 'ere." Lestrade said loudly.

In the cab, Dare is looking at a battered golden fob watch with series of intricate circles and black elegant script written in a foreign language in her hand.

Jeff sees the watch her from his review mirror "Nice watch you got there Mrs. 'olmes, it's a bit banged up though, have you thought of getting it retouched?"

"Huh. Oh, this old thing. It would be a waste of money, it is broken after all. I doubt they'll be able to fix it." Dare replied.

"How do you know that it is broken?"

Dare frowned, unable to remember when or how the watch broke "It's always been broken. It's the only thing that they found me along with a purple crystal necklace when the found me at the doorstep of the orphanage." She chuckled bitterly "Something out of a story. Left on the door step in front of an orphanage in the middle of a rainy night. How stupid."

"Well at least you ended up with a good family."

"Well it was certainly something." She said while putting the watch back in her pocket. It's not something that she goes without.

"Back to the matter at hand. How did you know about my suicide attempt? My brothers wiped any record of my mental instability to the public." Dare said, wearing her poker face again.

"Oh you secret admirer told me that Mrs. 'olmes. He is also a fan of your brother as well."

Dare looked at him with confusion "Who told you about us?"

"Just someone out there who's noticed you and you brother. Oh and I been his website, too. Brilliant stuff! Loved it!"

"Who?" she asked as she leans forward, looking closely at the side of Jeff's neck, then noticing a photograph of a young boy and girl attached to the dashboard of the cab as well as the shaving cream behind his left ear.

**Shaving cream behind left ear**

**The Photograph is cut down the middle, looks like someone was cut out of the picture.**

"Who would notice us?" Dare clarified.

Jeff meets her eyes briefly in the rear view mirror "You're too modest, Mrs. 'olmes."

"I hardly think that Sherlock and myself as modest."

"Sherlock got a fan and you got an admirer."

"Tell me more." Dare said as she leaned back against the back seat of the cab casually. Making it sound more like a demand than a request

"That's all you're gonna know ..." He pauses dramatically for a moment before muttering just low enough for Dare to barely hear him " ... in this lifetime."

Back at the flat, as the other police officers leave, Lestrade picks up his coat and turns to John. "Why did they do that? Why did they have to leave?"

John shrugs "You know them better than I do."

"I've known him for five years and her for two years and no, I don't. Well. . . I do sort of know Dare."

"So why do you put up with them? And what do you know about Dare? You said you already knew about the pills and you didn't seem that surprised when Dare confessed about her suicide attempt."

Lestrade sighed, and then sat in the arm chair facing the door "I knew about the suicide because I was the first responder that got there first, since I was the closest. It was the first time I meet the Dare.

"A girl named Martha Jones was the one who called 999. She is Dare's oldest friend, according to her. They've been friends since sixth grade (A/N I don't know the grading system in the UK so I went with the Canadian one). Martha thought Dare was talking funny during their phone call earlier that night, so she went over to her house. Dare's only mistake was leaving the door unlocked." Lestrade took a shaky breath before continuing "And when I showed up, Martha was crying into the phone.

"I'll spare you the details of the state of the room.

"The ambulance showed up two minutes later, not a moment too soon I might add. After that everything was pretty hazy until I got to the hospital to see her. They let me go since I was the first one that got there.

"In the waiting room it was quiet until Sherlock and his brother showed up. It was safe to say I was shocked to see Sherlock charge into the waiting room yelling at nurse, let alone to see him so distraught. They would kicked him out if I hadn't stepped in, and if his brother didn't convince the nurses that Sherlock would behave himself. His brother Mycroft looked almost panicked himself.

"It was also the first time I saw Sherlock caught almost completely by surprise just by me being there.

"While we waited Sherlock explained who Dare was and what she did career wise, and how she was always bullied because her brothers made a very unpopular legacy for her, thus making it harder for her to make friends growing up, as well as Dare's need to please her family, especially her brothers. And ever since she was little, she wanted to travel through space. He said once when she was five that it was a stupid dream.

"Sherlock was so upset that he probably didn't realise he was talking.

"That's how I knew about the suicide. As for why I put up with them is because I'm desperate, that's why." He stands up and walks to the door, then turns back "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one. When he is around the right people."

He turns and leaves.

Back to Dare and the cabbie. The cab drives on and finally stops at the front of two identical buildings side by side. Jeff turns off the engine and gets out, coming to the passenger door and opening it. He looks in at Dare.

"Where are we?" She asked

"You checked you phone a block away and I know you have GPS on it." Jeff said.

"Roland-Kerr Further Education College." Dare answered "Why here?"

"It's open; cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie: you always know a nice quiet spot for a murder. I'm surprised more of us don't branch out."

"And you just walk your victims in? How?"

Jeff raises a pistol and points it at Dare. Dare rolls her eyes and turns her head away. "How boring."

"Don't worry. It gets better." Jeff said.

"You can't exactly make people take their own lives at gunpoint."

"I don't. It's much better than that."

He lowers the gun "Don't need this with you, 'cause you'll follow me."

He confidently walks away. Dare sits for a moment, then scrunches her nose annoyed with herself as she does just what Jeff predicted and gets out of the cab to follow the man.

Back at 221B, John is alone in the flat still slightly shocked about the information given to him about Dare. Even so he appears to have decided to go home and walks towards the living room door, then looks down and clenches his right hand as if realising that he doesn't have his walking cane. He looks round and sees the cane lying on top of a box of papers next to the dining table and goes over to collect it. With its back to him, Sherlock's notebook is still on Mephone's website and the clock is spinning on the screen as the site searches for Jennifer Wilson's phone. As John picks up the cane and heads for the door again, the computer beeps triumphantly and a map appears on the screen and starts to zoom in on the location of the phone. At the same time Sherlock comes running into the flat, sweaty and out of breath.

"Where the hell have you been?" John asked both curious and concerned about what happened to his friend.

"I. . . chased. . . the taxi. . . five blocks. . . sprinting. . . following a. . . cold. . . trail. . . Came back. . . remembered Jennifer. . . Wilson's. . . phone. " Sherlock finished with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. John walks into the kitchen, before coming out a minute later with a glass of water, giving it to Sherlock. Sherlock gulps it down, finishing it before looking at it weirdly. "Where did you get the water?"

"The tap. Why?" John answered.

"Nothing. Where did you get the glass?"

"Out of one of the cupboards. Why?"

Sherlock thinks about it for a minute "No. Nothing it should be fine."

John was about to question him, but turns back as the computer beeps repeatedly. Going back to the table and propping his cane against it, he picks up the notebook and looks at the screen, then he turns to Sherlock before he takes the notebook with him as he hurries out of the door and down the stairs, once again forgetting to take his cane. Only this time, Sherlock is running after him. After placing his empty glass on the coffee table.

At Roland-Kerr College, Jeff opens the door of a room and stands aside so that Dare can go in, saying "Ladies first."

Dare looks at him closely but steps inside the room, then Jeff releases the door and lets it swing closed as he walks over to some switches on the wall and turns on the lights. The two are in a large classroom which has long fixed wooden benches and plastic chairs. Dare walks deeper into the room, looking around.

"Well, what do you think?" Jeff asks.

Dare shrugs as if to ask, 'What do I think about what?'

"It's up to you. You're the one who's gonna die 'ere." Jeff said

Dare turns back to him "No, I'm not."

"I thought you were trying to kill yourself?"

Dare gives him a hard glare "That was two years ago. I'm a different person now."

He raises his eyebrows, then gestures to one of the benches. "Shall we talk?"

Without waiting for a reply, he pulls out one of the chairs and sits down. Dare takes a chair from the bench in front, flips it around and sits down opposite. She sighs dramatically. "Bit risky, wasn't it? Taking me away under the eye of about half a dozen policemen. They're not that stupid and I'm pretty sure my brother saw me in the back seat. Mrs. Hudson will remember you as well."

"You call that a risk? Nah."

He reaches into the left pocket of his cardigan "This is a risk."

He takes out a small glass bottle with a screw top on it and puts it onto the table in front of him. There is a single large capsule inside. Dare looks at it but keeps her poker face on.

"Ooh, I like this bit. 'Cause you don't get it yet, do yer? But you're about to. I just have to do this." Reaching into his right pocket, he takes out an identical bottle containing an identical capsule and puts it onto the table beside the first bottle "You weren't expecting that, were yer?"

He leans forward "Ooh, you're going to love this."

"Love what?" Dare asked.

Jeff sits back again "Dare 'olmes. Look at you! 'Ere in the flesh. I have read all about your achievements, and research papers. Your admirer told me about them."

"My admirer?"

"You are brilliant. You and your brother are. Proper geniuses. I have read his website too. 'The Science of Deduction.' Now that is proper thinking. Between you and me sitting 'ere, why can't people think?"

He looks down angrily "Don't it make you mad? Why can't people just think?"

He looks up again into Dare's eyes. Dare looks back at him for a long moment not giving anything away, narrowing her eyes, then makes a realisation.

"Oh. So you're a proper genius too." Dare said sarcastically.

"Don't look it, do I? Funny little man drivin' a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are it'll be the last thing you ever know."

Dare holds his gaze for a second or two, then looks down to the table "Okay, two bottles. Explain."

"There's a good bottle and a bad bottle. You take the pill from the good bottle, you live; take the pill from the bad bottle, you die."

"Both bottles are identical."

"In every way."

"And you know which is which."

"Course I know."

"But I don't."

"Wouldn't be a game if you knew. You're the one who chooses."

"Why should I? I've got nothing to go on. What's in it for me?"

"I 'aven't told you the best bit yet. Whatever bottle you choose, I take the pill from the other one – and then, together, we take our medicine."

Dare continues to give him her poker face, unsure whether to be happy or scared of the fifty-fifty chance of dying.

"I won't cheat. It's your choice. I'll take whatever pill you don't." Jeff said.

Dare looks down at the bottles, looking for anything that would give away which is good or bad. Not finding anything of course.

"Didn't expect that, did you, Mrs. 'olmes?"

"This is what you did to the rest of them: you gave them a choice."

"And now I'm givin' you one."

Dare looks up at him.

"You take your time. Get yourself together. I want your best game."

"It's not a game. It's chance." She said.

"I've played four times. I'm alive. It's not chance, Mrs. 'olmes, it's chess. It's a game of chess, with one move, and one survivor. And this ... this ... is the move."

With his left hand he slides the left-hand bottle across the table towards Dare. He licks his top lip as he pulls his hand back and leaves the bottle where it is.

"Did I just give you the good bottle or the bad bottle? You can choose either one."

John is in the back of a taxi with Sherlock, who can't seem to sit still. Sherlock has the computer notebook open on his lap and John is holding his phone to his ear.

"No, Detective Inspector Lestrade. I need to speak to him. It's important. It's an emergency!" John said into the phone.

The map on the laptop shows the location of Jennifer's phone again.

"Turn left here. Left here." Sherlock practically shouted to the driver.

ROLAND-KERR COLLEGE.

Jeff looks down at the bottles briefly then meets Dare's eyes.

"You ready yet, Mrs. 'olmes? Ready to play?"

"Play what? It's a fifty-fifty chance."

"You're not playin' the numbers, you're playin' me. Did I just give you the good pill or the bad pill? Is it a bluff? Or a double-bluff? Or a triple-bluff?"

"Still just chance."

"Four people in a row? It's not just chance."

"Luck."

" It's genius. I know 'ow people think."

Dare rolls her eyes.

_"The ego of some people" _Dare thought.

"I know 'ow people think I think. I can see it all, like a map inside my 'ead. Everyone's so stupid – even you."

Dare's gaze sharpens.

"Or maybe God just loves me." Jeff said.

Dare straightens up and leans forward, folding her hands in front of her on the table.

"Either way, you're wasted as a cabbie." she said.

John and Sherlock have arrived at Roland-Kerr College. As the taxi pulls away, John tucks the notebook into his jacket and looks at the two identical buildings in front of him. Clearly the map isn't precise enough to indicate exactly where the phone is. After a moment, Sherlock heads towards the buildings with John following behind.

In the classroom, Dare lifts her folded hands in front of her mouth and gazes at Jeff intently, trying to be intimidating by copying what Sherlock does when he wants answers.

"So, you risked your life four times just to kill strangers. Why?" She asked.

Jeff nods down to the bottles "Time to play."

"Oh, I am playing, I am just adding my own rules. So this is my turn. But before I start, I'll ask you this; if you kill me wont my admirer be mad that you killed me?"

"You're choosing to play this game Mrs. 'olmes, there is nothing neither he nor I could do about it. It was originally for your brother, but you came instead. Not that I'm disappointed though. You're just as brilliant as he is, maybe more so."

Dare nodded "Okay, back to my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you."

_Flashback to Jeff sitting in the driver's seat of the cab, which is when Dare noticed this._

"Traces of where it's happened before, so obviously you live on your own; there's no-one to tell you."

Jeff tries not to fidget under Dare's gaze.

"But there's a photograph of children. The children's mother has been cut out of the picture. If she'd died, she'd still be there."

_Flashback to the photograph attached to the dashboard of the cab. There is indeed a third person at the left of the photograph but the photo has been cut along that side to remove her._

"The photograph's old but the frame's new. You think of your children but you don't get to see them."

Jeff's gaze slides away from Dare and for the first time there's a hint of pain in his eyes.

"Estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them and it still hurts." Dare say while giving him a sad look.

She extends her index fingers.

"But there's more." She said softly.

Jeff lifts his gaze back to Dare as she points his index fingers towards him.

"Your clothes: recently laundered but everything you're wearing's at least ... three years old? Keeping up appearances but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about?"

Jeff has got control of himself again and his expression says nothing as he gazes back at Dare. The detective's eyes widen slightly as she makes her most important deduction.

"Three years ago – is that when they told you?" She said sadly.

"Told me what?" Jeff said flatly.

Dare's deduction seems to appear beside Jeff's head:

**DYING**

"That you're a dead man walking. I'm sorry."

"So are you."

"You don't have long, though. Am I right?"

Jeff smiles.

"Aneurism." he lifts his right hand and taps the side of his head.

"Right in 'ere."

Dare tried to not look at him with pity, she always hated it when people did it to her.

"Any breath could be my last."

"So because you're dying, you've just murdered four people." Dare said frowning at him.

"I've outlived four people. That's the most fun you can 'ave on an aneurism."

"Well they always say that there is a thin line between genus and insanity" She muttered, before saying thoughtfully "No, there's something else. You didn't just kill four people because you're bitter. Bitterness is a paralytic. Love is a much more vicious motivator. Somehow this is about your children."

Jeff looked away and sighed "Oh."

He looks at Dare again.

"You are good, ain't you? Maybe as good as your brother." He finished smirking.

Dare gave him a cold look "Don't compare me to my brothers, that would be like me saying that you're living longer than someone with cancer."

His eyes widened at her statement "That's a bit cold isn't it"

"You're a man that believes that he out lived four people by killing them. But answer me this how is this about your children?"

"You're right. When I die, they won't get much, my kids. Not a lot of money in driving cabs."

"Or serial killing."

"You'd be surprised."

"Surprise me."

Jeff leans forward. "I 'ave a sponsor."

"You have a what?"

"For every life I take, money goes to my kids. The more I kill, the better off they'll be. You see? It's nicer than you think."

"Who'd sponsor a serial killer?" Dare said slightly horrified.

"Who'd be a fan of Sherlock and Dare 'olmes?" Jeff said instantly.

They stare at each other for a moment.

"You're not the only one to enjoy a good puzzle. There's others out there just like you, except you're just two people ... and they're so much more than that."

"What d'you mean, more than two people? An organisation? What?"

"There's a name no-one says, an' I'm not gonna say it either. Now, enough chatter." he nods down to the bottles "Time to choose."

Dare looks down to the bottles, her eyes moving from one to the other.

Elsewhere in the college, Sherlock and John are running through the corridors.

"Dare?" John calls out.

"Dare where are you?" Sherlock yelled out frantically looking through the doors and windows.

They run from door to door, trying them and peering in through windows.

"Dare!" John yelled.

CLASSROOM.

"What if I don't choose either? I could just walk out of here." Dare said challengingly.

Sighing in a combination of exasperation and disappointment, Jeff lifts up the pistol and points it at Dare.

"You can take your fifty-fifty chance, or I can shoot you in the head."

Dare smiles calmly.

"Funnily enough, no-one's ever gone for that option." Jeff said.

"I'll guess I'll go with the gun, please."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. The gun." Dare said still smiling.

"You don't wanna phone a friend?"

Dare smiles confidently "I did that before. Big mistake. Again the gun please."

Jeff's mouth tightens, and slowly he squeezes the trigger. A small flame bursts out of the end of the muzzle. Dare smiles smugly. "I am offended that you would think that I would be easily fooled."

Calmly Jeff lifts the pistol/cigarette lighter and releases the trigger. The flame goes out. "None of the others did."

"Clearly. Well, this has been very interesting. I look forward to the court case. Maybe the will let you off easily." She stands up and walks towards the door. Jeff puts the gun onto the desk and calmly turns in his seat.

"Just before you go, did you figure it out ..."

Dare stops at the door and half-turns towards him.

"... which one's the good bottle?" Jeff said.

"Of course. Child's play." Dare answered.

"Well, which one, then?"

Dare opens the door a little but shows no sign of leaving the room.

"Which one would you 'ave picked, just so I know whether I could have beaten you?" Jeff said.

"Dammit" Dare mumbled then closes the door again.

Jeff chucks "Come on. Play the game."

Slowly Dare walks back towards him. When she gets to the table, she reaches out and sweeps up the bottle nearest to Jeff, then walks past him. Jeff looks down at the other bottle with interest but his voice gives nothing away as he speaks. "Oh. Interesting."

He picks up the other bottle as Dare looks down at the bottle in her own hand.

Out in the corridors, John and Sherlock are still running along and searching.

In the classroom, Jeff has opened his bottle and tips the capsule out into his hand. He holds it up and looks at it closely as Dare examines his own bottle.

"So what d'you think?" he looks up at Dare "Shall we?"

In the corridors, John pulls open yet another door and looks inside the room before hurrying onwards, Sherlock follows his lead.

"Really, what do you think?"

He has stood up and is facing Dare.

"Can you beat me?"

Sherlock and John race up a flight of stairs and continues their search.

"Are you clever enough to bet your life?"

Sherlock and John burst through a door and stare ahead of them as they finally see who they're looking for. Their eyes fill with horror.

Inside the classroom, Dare lifts her gaze from the bottle she's holding ... and over her shoulder and out of the window behind her, soaring across the courtyard outside and in through another window to reveal John and Sherlock standing in an identical classroom in the other building, too far away to be of help. John and Sherlock cry out in horror.

"DARE!"

Unaware that they're being watched, Jeff continues to hold up his pill as he looks at Dare.

"I bet you get bored, don't you? I know you do. A woman like you ..."

Dare undoes the lid of the bottle.

"... so clever. But what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it?"

Dare takes out the capsule and holds it between her thumb and finger, raising it to the light to examine it more closely.

"Still the addict."

Dare gives him an unreadable look before she slowly lowers the pill again, holding it at eye level and gazing at it.

"But this ... this is what you're really curious about it, innit?"

Dare holds the pill in his fingers and stares at it.

"You'd do anything ... anything at all ..."

Dare lets out a shaky breath, unknown to weather from nervousness, fear, or excitement.

"... to stop being bored."

Slowly Dare begins to move the pill closer to her mouth. Jeff matches the movement with his own pill.

"You're not bored now, are you?"

Each of their hands gets closer to their own mouth.

"Innit good?"

A gunshot rings out and a bullet impacts Jeff's chest close to his heart, then goes through his body and smashes into the door behind him. As he falls to the floor, Dare drops her pill in surprise. In the opposite building, John has his pistol still raised and aimed out of the window, with Sherlock giving Jeff a savage look. John lowers the gun to his side. In the other building, Dare turns, and shakily slides over the desk behind her and hurries to the window, bending down to stare through the bullet hole in the glass. The window of the opposite room is open but there is nobody in sight. As Dare straightens up, Jeff breathes heavily and coughs. Dare turns back, looking around the room and sees Jeff convulse on the floor and gasps and coughs in pain. Dare looks at Jeff in shock, since she has never seen someone dying. Yes, she has seen dead bodies, but she has never seen the life leave the person's eyes.

Dare runs a nervous hand through her hair.

_'What would Sherlock do?!'_ Dare thought franticly, before she remembered about her 'admirer.'

"Tell me this: your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about us – my 'admirer'. I want a name." Dare demanded.

"No." Jeff says weekly.

"You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name." Dare winces internally for what she's about to do, but she needs to walk away with something.

Jeff shakes his head. Dare manages to keep a blank face as she lifts her foot and puts it onto Jeff's shoulder. Jeff gasps in pain.

"A name."

Jeff cries out in pain. Dare is struggling to hold herself together.

"Now."

Still Jeff can only whine in pain. With her face still blank she leans her weight onto her foot. Jeff whimpers.

"The name!" Dare said.

"MORIARTY!" Jeff said antagonized.

His eyes close and his head rolls to the side. Dare steps back. Placing her hands over her mouth in order to muffle the sobs that escaped her throat.

LATER. Outside the college, Dare is sitting on the back steps of an ambulance looking like her normal self. A paramedic puts an orange blanket around her shoulders as Lestrade walks over. Dare gestures to the blanket. "Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me."

"Yeah, it's for shock." Lestrade answers.

"I'm not in shock." Dare half lied; she learned how to lie very well while growing up with the Holmes family.

"Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photographs."

He grins. Dare rolls her eyes.

"So, the shooter. No sign?"

"Cleared off before we got 'ere. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him but ..." he shrugs "... got nothing to go on."

Dare looks at him pointedly "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

Now it's Lestrade's turn to roll his eyes.

"Okay, gimme."

Dare stood up" The bullet they just dug out of the wall is from a hand gun. Kill shot over that distance from that kind of a weapon – that's a crack shot you're looking for, but not just a marksman; a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatised to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service ..." As she's talking, she turns her head to look around the area and sees John standing some distance away behind the police tape and Sherlock is arguing with one of the cops, and keeps gesturing to the ambulance that Dare was at.

"... and nerves of steel ..." she trails off. As John looks back at her innocently and then turns his head to Sherlock, Dare begins to realise the connection. Lestrade turns to follow Dare's gaze and Dare turns back to him before he can start to ask questions "Actually, do you know what? Ignore me."

"Sorry?" Lestrade questioned.

"Ignore all of that. It's just the, er, the shock talking." she starts to walk towards Sherlock and John.

"Where're you going?" Lestrade asked.

"Oh...I'm…Um… the Kingdom of Life?…Uh…like I said…Shock…Bye." She said before taking off towards her brother and John.

"But I've still got questions for you." Lestrade said, confused by what she was saying.

Dare turns back to him and says with irritation "Oh, what now? I'm in shock! Look, I've got a blanket! I'm talking nonsense."

She brandishes the sides of the blanket at Lestrade as if to prove it.

"Dare!"

"And I just caught you a serial killer ... more or less. Or found him, well more like he found me but same difference. I think."

Lestrade looks at her thoughtfully for a moment.

"Okay. We'll bring you in tomorrow. Off you go."

Dare practically skips away. Lestrade smiles as her watches him go. She approaches Sherlock and John, who both have taken to standing at the side of a police car. Dare ducks under the police tape, still keeping the blanket around her shoulders.

Sherlock immediately pulls her into a tight hug.

Once he pulls away he frowns "Why are you wearing the hideous blanket?"

"It's for shock." she replied.

"Are you in shock?" Sherlock asked concerned.

"No."

"Then why are you wearing it?"

"It's cold. And I forgot my jacket back at the flat."

"Idiot." Sherlock said.

Sherlock takes the blanket off her shoulders, the crumples it up and throws it into the open window of a police car.

"Hey! I-" Dare stopped herself when Sherlock took off his coat and put it on her.

"Oh…Um, thanks. Aren't you going to be cold?"

"I'll be fine."

Dare looked like a kid playing dress up in her parents clothes since she is ten inches shorter than Sherlock's 6.04ft height.

Dare put her arms through the sleeves and rolls the cuffs up. She was just about to adjust the collar, but got a funny thought.

Smirking, Dare turned the collar up so that it was just her cheekbones and her eyes shown on her face.

"Look I'm pulling a Sherlock." Dare said childishly, while walking like Sherlock does with her hands in her pocket, trying to look angry at the world.

Sherlock gives her a 'what the fuck' look, While John is laughing into his fist when he sees that she managed to copy Sherlock's look and walk perfectly, he was confused about the collar part, due to the fact that he hasn't been around Sherlock that much yet.

"Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful." John said after he calmed down.

Dare looks at him for a moment.

"Good shot." She said quietly

"Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window." John said trying and utterly failing to look innocent

"Well, you'd know."

John looks at her, still trying unsuccessfully not to let his expression give him away.

"Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case." Sherlock said, basically saying that he had a part in the shooting.

John clears his throat and looks around nervously.

"Are you all right?" Dare asked.

"Yes, of course I'm all right." John replied.

"Well, you have just killed a man."

"Yes, I ... Well you just witnessed a man's death. Shouldn't I be asking you if you're okay?" John said.

This caused Sherlock to study Dare closely.

"I already told you guys I'm okay." Dare stated, giving nothing away.

Sherlock didn't believe it, but went along with it anyways, knowing that she push him farther away.

"That's true, innit? About the shooter." John said bringing the subject back to the subject of John shooting a man.

John smiles. Dare watches him carefully.

"But he wasn't a very nice man." John said.

Apparently reassured that John really is okay, Dare and Sherlock nod in agreement.

"No. No, he wasn't really, was he?" Dare said.

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John said.

Sherlock chuckles, then turns and starts to lead them away as he speaks.

"That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took her to get here!"

John giggles, and Sherlock smiles, Dare smiles softly.

"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!" John said.

"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me." Sherlock said.

"And you were the one giggling." Dare pointed out.

"Keep your voice down!" John hissed.

They're walking past Sergeant Donovan.

"Sorry – it's just, um, nerves, I think." John said to Donavan.

"Sorry." Sherlock said to Donavan.

Dare just walks past her, not even acknowledging her.

John clears his throat as they walk away from Donovan and to catch up to Dare.

"You were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?" John said to Dare.

Dare turns back to him.

"Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd both turn up." Dare replied.

"That better be the case." Sherlock said.

"No you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

"Why would I do that? That sounds more like Sherlock than me." Dare said smirking.

"Because you're both idiots."

Sherlock smiles, apparently delighted that he has finally found someone who understands him and his sister. After a moment he forces the smile down.

"Dinner?" Sherlock asked.

"Starving." John said.

They both turn to Dare.

"If Sherlock eats." She said still smirking, that way both Dare and Sherlock would one less worry.

Sherlock sighs dramatically "Fine. It wouldn't hurt."

They turn and start to walk again.

"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open 'til two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle."

As he has been speaking, a few yards ahead of them a car has pulled up and the man who abducted John earlier gets out. John stares.

"Sherlock, Dare. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you two about." John said.

Sherlock looks across at the man "I know exactly who that is."

Dare grins and runs over to the man and gives him a hug. Surprising John even more when the man returns it.

Sherlock walks closer to the man and stops, looking at him angrily. Dare pulls away from the man, smirking at John's worried expression as he glances round to gauge where the police are in case he needs to summon their help. The man speaks pleasantly to Sherlock. "So, another case cracked. How very public spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it? Even though it almost ended Dare's life." He finished bitterly.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you two. And to see how well you're looking after Dare, that you are not fit to look after Dare."

Sherlock said to the man and said sarcastically "Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'. And I am taking care of Dare just fine."

"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side? And look at how well of a job you did today." the man replied.

"Oddly enough, no! And Dare is still alive isn't she!"

"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer , Dare has proved this today... and you know how it always upset Mummy."

"Wow, and you guys always say that I need to grow up." Dare said sarcastically.

Mycroft turned to Dare "Says the girl that got in a cab with a murder, in front of dozens of police officers."

Dare suddenly finds the back car suddenly interesting.

John frowns as if unsure of what he just heard.

"I upset Mummy? Me?"

The man glowers at him.

"It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft." Sherlock said

"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asked confused.

"Mother – our mother. This is our brother, Mycroft." Sherlock explained.

John looks at Dare to confirm it.

She smiles "Yep, and believe it or not. I'm actually the dumb one out of the Holmes siblings."

John stares at the man in amazement.

"Putting on weight again?" Sherlock said to Mycroft.

"Losing it, in fact." Mycroft replied proudly.

"He's your brother?!" John said to Sherlock and Dare.

"Of course he's our brother." Sherlock answered.

"So he's not ..."

"Not what?"

The three siblings look at John as he shrugs in embarrassment.

"I dunno – criminal mastermind?" He grimaces at having even suggested it.

Dare burst out laughing at John's suggestion.

Sherlock looks at Mycroft disparagingly "Close enough."

"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government." Mycroft said annoyed.

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis." Sherlock said.

Mycroft sighs.

"Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic." Sherlock said before he walks away. Dare gives Mycroft a goodbye hug, politely telling him no to his offer to stay at his residence before following Sherlock. John starts to follow them but then turns back to Mycroft, who has turned to watch his brother and sister.

"So, when-when you say you're concerned about them, you actually are concerned?" John asked.

"Yes, of course." Mycroft replied.

"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?"

Mycroft answers, still watching his brother and sister as Dare continues to bug him about pulling a 'Sherlock' "He's always been so resentful; and she knows exactly how to make myself and Sherlock go crazy with worry for her wellbeing. You can imagine the Christmas dinners."

"Yeah ... no. God, no!" He half-turns to follow Sherlock and Dare. "I-I'd better, um ..."

He turns back to not-Anthea, who has been standing nearby throughout the conversation with her eyes fixed on her BlackBerry. "Hello again."

She looks up and smiles at him brightly. "Hello.

"Yes, we-we met earlier on this evening."

She stares at him as if she has never seen him before but reacts as if she is trying to pretend that she remembers him "Oh!"

"Okay, good night." He includes Mycroft in his glance, then turns and follows after Sherlock and Dare.

"Good night, Doctor Watson." Mycroft said.

John catches up to Sherlock and Dare as they walk away side by side.

"So. Chinese food." John said.

"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies." Sherlock said

"No you can't."

"Almost can. You did get shot, though."

"Sorry?"

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

"I bet it wasn't in the leg." Dare said.

"What makes you say that?" John asked curious.

"Because it's to obvious" Dare explained.

"Oh, yeah. Shoulder." John said.

"Shoulder! I thought so." Sherlock said.

"No you didn't." John said.

"The left one." Sherlock said

"Lucky guess."

"I never guess."

"Yes you do." John and Dare said at the same time while laughing.

"By the way have either of you herd of someone named Moriarty?" Dare asked randomly.

Both of the boys stop and give her a curious look. John shook his head.

"No. Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Well the person or organization that sponsored the cabbie's killing spree. He said that he's our 'fan'." She said, purposely leaving out the admirer part. Knowing that Sherlock would probably put her on house arrest.

"Moriarty." Sherlock said to himself.

Back at the car, not-Anthea turns to Mycroft who is watching the trio as they walk away.

"Sir, shall we go?" not-Anthea asked.

"Interesting, that soldier fellow." Mycroft said.

Not-Anthea looks briefly at the departing trio, and then turns her attention back to her BlackBerry.

"He could be the making of my siblings – or make them worse than ever. Either way, we'd better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade Three Active." Mycroft said.

Not-Anthea looks up from her phone. "Sorry, sir. Whose status?"

"Sherlock Holmes, Delores Holmes, and Doctor Watson."

At the Flat

After eating at the restaurant Sherlock suggested the trio returned to the flat. During said dinner Sherlock and Dare got into a series of disagreements about who figured out who the was murder first, it was then, that John learned not to get in the middle of a fight between Holmes siblings. Ever.

Once into the building Sherlock takes off upstairs, probably to see how much damage happened during the 'drugs bust.' Leaving John and Dare at the bottom of the staircase.

John clears his throat "Umm. Dare, can I tell you something."

Dare was about to walk upstairs, but stopped and gave John a curious look "Okay, what is it John?"

John looks uncomfortable "It's…well. Umm. Lestrade told me what happened. Two years ago I mean. The first time he met you… And I just want to say if you want to talk about anything, or you just need someone to listen, you can always come talk to me anytime."

Dare says nothing as she walks over to John and gives him a hug, which he returns.

"Thank-you John. That means a lot. And I just might take you up on that offer sometime." Dare pulled back with a genuine smile.

Then she goes up the stairs with John following her.

Once upstairs Dare and John see Sherlock sitting in the armchair facing the door in a prayer pose with his eyes closed.

"I think he claimed that chair as his spot." Dare whispered loud enough for only John to hear. He chuckles.

Dare puts Sherlock's coat on the coat hanger by the door "Well, another eventful day, and I'm beat. Night boys." She said before walking down the hallway to her bedroom.

Both boys said goodnight to her before she shut her bedroom door.

John sits down in the chair across from Sherlock, and looks around the room.

"You have questions." Sherlock said after a moment.

"Huh. Oh yeah. What exactly is wrong with Dare?" John asked.

Sherlock opened his eyes and leaned back in his seat, resting his arms on the arm rests. "Where to start. Well I'll start from the beginning I guess.

"Dare was left abandoned in front of an orphanage when she was 6 months old. So that means we don't know any genetic mental illness in her biological family, so we have no idea if her depression is genetic or from her experiences, although at this point I doubt it matters.

"My parents adopted her when she was 4 years old. And it's fair to say that Mycroft and I weren't happy about it. I found it especially annoying since I was fourteen at the time, and she would always follow me around the house and would always ask questions about outer space, which was very annoying and useless information.

"It was when she was six years old the first time I yelled at her. Mycroft and I were to look after Dare for a weekend. Obviously, Mycroft and I got into an argument. Sadly Dare choose the exact wrong time to ask me a question about astronauts. I basically I took out all my anger out on her saying something along the lines 'it's stupid to want to know anything about outer space, which caused her to cry and run away, all we heard was a door slam. I was about to go apologise, but then Mycroft started to yell at me for yelling at her for no reason, and something about anger control. Which started another argument, which ended when we both had to make dinner, ironically it took us three tries to make spaghetti, only because we kept arguing over how long to cook the sauce and the noodles.

"It was only when dinner was ready, when we realised we hadn't seen Dare once. I checked her room first then when she wasn't there, we tore the entire house apart looking for her. The panic started when we couldn't find her in the house, and it was dark outside. We decided to check the woods behind our house, since we knew that she liked to play there. It didn't take long to find her, but the worst part was that we found her next to a really tall tree with fallen branches scattered around her, and she wasn't moving.

"Turns out that whenever Dare was upset she would climb the tallest tree almost to the top, and after I yelled at her she went to her favorite tree, and a branch snapped causing her to fall ten feet and to land on her arm, breaking it. She wasn't moving because she found out that when she moved, it would cause a lot of pain due to her injury.

After that we rushed her to a hospital. Mother and Father weren't happy when they got back.

After that night Dare never bothered me with questions, nor did she follow me around, at first it was nice. But after a while I started to miss it. So I ended up looking up random facts about space to tell her. But it seemed that she didn't care about outer space anymore. I think that was the first time she showed signs of depression.

In school, it seemed that Mycroft and I left behind a reputation of being unpleasant from the older siblings of her peers, which unfortunately labelled her as a freak through middle school and high school. Thus making it difficult for her to make friends.

The second time was when she was fifteen when she got into drugs. This was also the time when I was heavily into drugs. Mycroft caught her injecting herself with heroine; it was still early for her. She had only taken the drug six times before. I never visited her around that time for obvious reasons. When the family had an intervention for her (again I show up for it), When they gave her no choice but to go to rehab, she used me as an excuse saying 'So when I get caught doing drugs, I get sent to rehab, but when Sherlock gets caught, he just gets a long lecture. I hardly see how I am forced to go to a drug prison while Sherlock drowns his sorrows with chemicals.' Mycroft told me what she said. After that I realised that I was used as an excuse, so I went to rehab, Dare went in not to long after, but for not as long of course.

Somewhere between fifteen and seventeen she started to cut herself. She hid it very well, we only found out when the ambulance was checking for other injuries after her suicide attempt.

When she was seventeen she committed suicide, and I assume Lestrade told you about what happened."

John nodded, assuming that Sherlock was ease dropping on his conversation downstairs with Dare earlier.

Sherlock continued "She was diagnosed with her depression the day after her suicide attempt. And deemed unable to live on her own until she is deemed mentally stable. Even when she is mentally stable she must still go to therapy. At the time it wasn't that much of an issue, since she wasn't old enough to live on her own. But now it's a problem. I will admit that sometimes she is a bit too much for me to handle."

"You make it sound like she is a child." John said, trying to lighten the mood a tad.

"Well she has her moments" Sherlock replied with a small smirk that quickly disappeared soon after "But is when she has her dark moments. The moments that remind you that she has given up on life, and is ready to leave.

"They're happening less and less, but they still happen and I'm not sure that I can handle them alone anymore." Sherlock said tiredly while running a hand through his hair.

"Ah. So that's why you got a flatmate." John said in understanding.

Sherlock looks at him confused "No. We needed a flatmate to help with the rent." Sherlock said before adding as an afterthought "But I guess a little extra help couldn't hurt."

John nodded before asking "Why were you and Dare fighting in the restaurant?"

"Oh. That, well Dare has the tendency to be anorexic."

John gives him a look "And you don't during cases?"

"That is only for cases John. Dare would starve herself if I don't make her eat."

"So is Dare an anorexic because she is subconscious of her body image?"

"No she just doesn't care when she eats or not."

"Okay. So does Dare's last relationship have anything to do with her depression?" John asked.

What surprised John was the amount of anger Sherlock's expression held at the mention of Dare's past boyfriend.

"She dated that bastard for two months. No one noticed that he verbally abused her for two months.

"When she finally broke up with him five months ago he beat her. She was barely able to call 999." Sherlock said venomously.

"What happened to the boyfriend?" John asked, his anger slowly rising. Even though John had only known the girl for a couple days, he has already considered her as a younger sister.

"Dare pressed charges, and got a restring order. I didn't trust it. But thankfully Mycroft made sure he was deported."

"Where was he deported" John asked curiously.

"Pakistan"

John looked at him wide eyed. Actually seeing the true lengths that the two brothers would go to the protect their younger sister.

"About Dare's achievements. How did she manage to accomplish them if she was having so much trouble dealing with other students and her depression?" John asked changing the subject.

"She finished all her school work from grade five to twelve when she was nine, so that left her plenty of time to work on other studies. She went with the school system so she would be able to grow up with her peers. Mummy insistence, since Mycroft and myself became anti-social at a young age.

John nodded slowly while looking at the rug, absorbing the new information given to him.

"Well, I'll bring my things over tomorrow. And it's late so I'm going to call it a night. Good night Sherlock… And Thank-you for sharing. I know it's difficult when you're dealing with a sibling with mental issues." John said before going upstairs to where his room will be.

Sherlock sat in his seat for a couple of minutes after John left. Lost in thought, wondering why he told John everything.

Finally deciding that it's time to follow his flatmate's lead and call it a day.

Sherlock leaves to his darkened room, not bothering to change his clothes or closing the door before laying on his is back on the side of the bed farthest away from the door.

Shortly after, Sherlock the quiet creak of a door opening followed the shuffling of feet down the hallway to his room. Not looking Sherlock felt the bed dip on the side closest to the door.

Sherlock turned his head to see laying on her side facing him, looking pale with puffy eyes.

"Are you done crying now?" Sherlock asked gently. She nodded.

Sherlock pulled her closer so that her head was on his chest and his arms wrapped around her protectively. His action reminded her of when she was younger. At night whenever she would get upset or scared she would always stay in her brother's room and he would always promise to keep the monsters away. If only they knew that the only monsters that caused trouble were the ones in their minds.

"How did you know?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"I have lived with you for seven years. In less than that time I have learned all of a person's habits for different emotions. You for example tend to tease and/or pick fights with me or Mycroft when you want to break down crying. I also know that you don't like showing your true emotions in front of people that you haven't trusted for years which is why you loathe going to the therapist."

"And yet you still make me go every month."

"It is only part of the deal. And it is not that much fun on my part either. I'm the one who has to drag you out of the flat and into a cab and get you there on time. Then I have to deal with you being a cranky pants for the rest of the day."

She hummed in response.

"What do you think of John?" Sherlock asked.

"He is nice. He looks for danger, your kind of friend."

"John is a colleague. I don't have friends."

"Sure he is. Are you positive you will be able to tell me the same thing in a couple months."

"Are you okay with me telling John about your past?" Sherlock asked, changing the topic.

"Yeah. He is going to be our flatmate, so he should know. I certainly wasn't going to tell him."

"Very well then."

"Did you actually look up facts about outer space after I broke my arm?" Dare asked after a moment.

"Hmm. Yes I did, you just never knew that because you stopped asking. Why was that by the way?"

"Well at first you yelled at me saying wanting to go to outer space is ridiculous. So like any 5 year old, my feelings were hurt, and for a while I thought you hated me and that you didn't want me around anymore. This was why I ran to my favourite tree. Then I fell, but when you and Mycroft were both having panic attacks, and when you would only leave my side when the nurses made you, and that you made extra sure that I would make a full recovery. I realised that you didn't hate me or not want me around, it was just your time of the month." Dare finished smirking.

He flicked her ear.

"Ow" now rubbing the sore spot on her ear she continued "What I _meant_ to say was that you didn't mean it. Well, most of it."

"What about the no questions part?"

"Oh yeah, that part. I knew it annoyed you so I stopped."

"…That's it? Fourteen years of wondering why, and that's it?" Sherlock ran his hand down his face.

"Basically yeah. Why? Did you really spend fourteen years wondering why?"

"Just go to sleep."

"Really? If you-" Sherlock cut her off by putting his hand over her mouth.

"Sleep."

Dare rolled her eyes, but did what her brother asked anyways.

* * *

My updates will happen less frequently since school starts Sept 2. And I am considering starting a new story (that is different than this one). And if you consider reading my stories sometime in the future, just remember that they will have one small thing that connects them. . . eventually.

And thanks for reading :) and let me know what you think of the story


	7. New Surprises

Hello

not an episode, just something I wrote while I was board.

Sorry ahead of time if there are any grammar or spelling errors in this story. And let me know what you think in the reviews :)

* * *

John was brought out of his reading of "Clinical Anatomy" by the sound thumping and yelling coming from the flat below him, where his flatmates Dare and Sherlock Holmes stay.

"Bloody hell! Can't I get a day to myself without their craziness interrupting it?" John grumbled as he put his book aside so he could investigate what the siblings have done.

Once John was down stairs, he was expecting an explosion of some sort or severed limbs lying around (which is highly possible when living with Sherlock Holmes).

But he did not expect what he saw what was really happening in the flat. From what John could see from his view from the door from the kitchen was; both Sherlock's and John's arm chairs and the coffee table in front of the couch were moved from their normal placements into a formation that could be described as a barrier in front of the fireplace. The couch was moved as barrier too, it was turned so that the corner was a hiding spot and the path to the center of the room from the entrance to the living room from the stair case. Not to mention the room was covered in splashes of blue and purple paint as well as . . . nerf bullets?

John could see Sherlock hiding behind the back of the couch, standing up with a nerf gun with bullets that were dripping with blue paint shooting to where the other barrier is, while wearing a pot as a helmet and safety glasses. He was also still in his night wear and his house coat despite it being 1 in the afternoon. He wearing 2 cooking sheets, 1 was tied to his chest and the other was tied to his back like armor, and Sherlock had splashes of purple paint covering him, except for his hands that were covered in blue paint.

Dare would pop up from the other barer taking a different tactic at shooting. She was shooting like how the soldiers would shoot from the trenches. from what John could tell Dare was also in her night wear and house coat, and like Sherlock she had turned a kitchen tool into a helmet, except Dare used a strainer, and ski goggles (a wise choice in a paint battle). Dare-like Sherlock-was covered in paint splashes except only in blue, and her hands were covered in purple paint ant the bullets in her nerf gun were dripping purple as well.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?!" John said, trying to hold on to the anger he had coming into the flat, but failing miserably due to how funny Dare and Sherlock looked wearing kitchen tools.

Sherlock and Dare froze when they heard John's voice and both slowly turned to John.

"Well?" John asked.

"Sherlock it's the po po! Hide!" Dare almost yelled. Both her and Sherlock ducked behind their barriers.

"Are you two serious?!" John asked.

"I think we have already established that we are not in a serious mood this afternoon based on the nerf guns and paint. And since you couldn't see that simple deduction I am starting to wonder if you're feeling well this morning John." Sherlock said still hiding behind his barrier.

"I figured that part out, but why did you two decide to start a nerf war inside the living room?" John asked, giving up on trying to angry with them for interrupting his reading. To be honest he was actually grateful for the interruption, he was basically reading the same paragraph over and over.

"Bored." Sherlock said, popping into view, since he knew John wasn't mad at them.

"And we had paint and nerf guns." Dare said, peeking over her barrier.

John looked at both of them. Then shook his head, deciding not to question them further. "Not even going to bother in this one." John said while turning into the kitchen to make himself tea. Turning his back to the Holmes siblings.

One thing to remember about the youngest Holmes siblings is that never turn your back to them during a nerf war, whether you're a part of it or not. You will be brought into it.

John froze when he felt a foam dart hit his neck. Surprisingly the dart was clean of any paint so John couldn't tell who shot it by the paint color.

John turned back to the living room, giving the siblings a look that said 'who shot it?'

Sherlock and Dare reacted the exact same way at the exact same time, almost as if this wasn't the first time they've done something like this before.

Both stood up and pointed to the other and said at the same time "He/She did it!"

John raised an eyebrow at them before turning back into the kitchen. Seeing a bucket of green paint, nerf gun, foam bullets, a pair of safety glasses, and a pot.

_"How did I miss this coming in?"_ John thought.

"Come join us John. Come to the dark side." Sherlock said cryptically from the living room, out of sight.

"Yes John. Come to the dark side." Dare said just as cryptic from the living room, and out of sight as well.

John gave a slightly scared look before snapping out of it, putting on the safety glasses and the pot on his head (he felt silly about the pot but went with it anyways), and loading the gun with foam bullets covered in green paint before cautiously going into the living room.

He was ambushed of course, but soon the playing field levelled out to every man for himself.

John figured out that Dare was the best shooter out of the 3, so he managed to take it from her, mind you that he got shot . . . a lot. This caused Dare (being as stubborn as she is) to start throwing paint covered bullets.

Not long after this Dare realised that she wasn't going to win without a gun. So she left the protection of her barrier with her paint can (which had a fair amount of paint) and over to Sherlock's fort. Where Sherlock was too preoccupied with John to notice her make her way to his fort. Once Dare made it to the fort (Sherlock didn't notice until it was too late) she dumped half of what was left of her paint over his head.

The only one word could be used to describe Sherlock's face: priceless.

Dare and John couldn't help but brake out into laughter. But unknown to both of them, Sherlock had grabbed his paint can and dumped the remains of the paint over their heads. The looks on their faces cause Sherlock break out in laughter.

John recovered first and dumped half of his paint on Sherlock, then onto Dare. Dare retaliated by dumping the rest of her paint onto John. Which cause the trio to break out into more laughter.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY FLAT?!"

The group immediately sobered up and turned to see Mrs. Hudson standing in the kitchen doorway, looking very mad.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson, how was lunch." John said awkwardly.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Umm…we had paint?" Dare tried to answer.

"Well you see Mrs. Hudson its-" Sherlock took off out the door to that stair way before he could finish. Dare quick to flow his lead and ran after him, leaving John alone in a paint covered room with a very angry land lady.

"So-" Mrs. Hudson cut him off before he could say more "Clean this place up!"

"Y-y-yes ma'am." John was surprised on how scary Mrs. Hudson can be when she's mad.

Mrs. Hudson stormed out of the flat after seeming satisfied with John's response.

John looked around the room he had to clean, cursing up and down about the two Holmes siblings that left him to clean up their mess.


	8. The Blind Banker, Part 1

In the National Antiquities Museum, an ancient Chinese clay tea set has been arranged on a tray. Oriental flute music is playing gently. A young Chinese woman, Soo Lin Yao, takes a large pinch of tea leaves from a bowl and sprinkles them into a teapot before pouring water on top of them. A group of children and a few adults are watching her demonstration.

"The great artisans say the more the teapot is used, the more beautiful it becomes." Soo Lin explained.

She has deliberately overfilled the pot so that when she picks up the lid and gently presses it down into place, water spills out over the sides of the pot. Now she picks up a small jug and pours more liquid over the top of the pot.

"The pot is seasoned by repeatedly pouring tea over the surface. The deposit left on the clay creates this beautiful patina over time." She holds up the wet teapot to show her audience how the pot is shining. "For some pots, the clay has been burnished by tea made over four hundred years ago."

Sometime later, the visitors have left and Soo Lin is gently drying and dusting off the tea set with a brush.

"This museum will be closing in ten minutes." The automated announcement informed.

A young English male employee, Andy Galbraith, walks over. He stands behind her and watches as she carefully packs the tea set into a box.

"Four hundred years old, and they're lettin' you use it to make yourself a brew!" Andy said jokingly.

"Some things aren't supposed to sit behind glass. They're made to be touched; to be handled." Soo Lin said not turning around.

She turns and looks at him. Andy – who clearly has a massive crush on her – looks back at her all doe-eyed. She turns back to the box and frowns.

"These pots need attention." She holds up a dry-looking pot with no shine on it "The clay is cracking."

"Well, I can't see how a tiny splash of tea's gonna help." He repelled grinning nervously.

"Sometimes you have to look hard at something to see its value." She puts the teapot down as Andy steels himself to say something. Just as he opens his mouth she lifts up another pot to show him. "See? This one shines a little brighter."

Andy braces himself "I don't suppose ... um, I mean, I don't suppose that you ... you wanna have a drink?" he grimaces "Not tea, obviously. Um, in a pub, with me, tonight ... umm."

Soo Lin puts the pot down, still not looking at him "You wouldn't like me all that much"

"Couldn't I maybe decide that for myself?"

She hesitates, but then briefly glances towards him "I can't. I'm sorry. Please stop asking."

She closes the box.

A little later, the main entrance doors to the museum are closed for the night and most of the lights are turned off. Down in the basement archive, Soo Lin is in one of the stacks, presumably putting her equipment away. There's a noise nearby.

"Is that Security?" Soo Lin called out.

There's no response, and after an anxious pause she walks out of the stacks and looks around.

"Hello?" She called out again.

To her right, a tall and narrow object is covered with a white sheet which billows in a breeze. She nervously walks closer to the object, then hesitantly takes hold of the sheet and pulls it down. Whatever she sees underneath makes her face fill with horror and fear.

SUPERMARKET. John Watson is standing at one of two self-service checkouts, scanning items from his basket. A short queue has formed behind him. John scans another item.

"Unexpected item in bagging area. Please try again." The automated voice said.

221B BAKER STREET. In the living room of the flat, Sherlock Holmes is under attack from a heavily robed figure, his face and head almost completely shrouded in a variety of scarves. While Dare is eating from a bag of crisps watching the fight from the kitchen, waiting for Sherlock to admit that he needs help. As the attacker slashes at him with a curved sword, Sherlock backs up carefully and ducks this way and that to avoid the blows. The man backs Sherlock up as far as the sofa and takes another swing at him. Ducking under the sword, Sherlock drops onto the sofa in a sitting position. The attacker lifts his sword above his head with both hands and Sherlock raises a leg, kicking hard at the man's chest and shoving him backwards. As the man stumbles back across the room, Sherlock gets to his feet and takes an all-important moment to straighten his jacket before charging across the room towards the man.

In the supermarket, John holds a lettuce in a plastic bag and moves it slowly across the scanner in an attempt to get it to read the barcode.

"Item not scanned. Please try again." The automated voice said.

John straightens up, staring at the device in exasperation "D'you think you could keep your voice down?"

In the flat, the attacker has his sword held horizontally in both hands and is pushing Sherlock backwards into the kitchen, narrowly missing Dare in the doorway. With a tight grip on the man's wrists, Sherlock falls back onto the kitchen table and the man follows him down, trying to press the edge of the blade into Sherlock's throat. Grimacing with the effort, Sherlock pushes the man's right wrist upwards to keep the blade from cutting him. The point of the sword begins to dig into the table to Sherlock's right.

"Need help yet?" Dare asked.

"No I can handle this." Sherlock said before he raises his left leg and knees the man in the side several times and, as this begins to weaken the man's grip, Sherlock forces himself upwards again. The sword tip gouges a long slash across the top of the table.

In the supermarket, John has at last got everything scanned and has inserted his credit or debit card into the chip-and-PIN machine. He types in his PIN and waits.

"Card not authorised. Please use an alternative method of payment." The automated voice said.

"Yes, all right! I've got it!" John said irritated.

"Card not authorised. Please use an alternative method of payment."

The man in the queue behind him has already picked up his own basket in expectation of getting to the scanner soon. John reaches towards his back pocket but apparently realises that he has no other way of paying.

"Got nothing." John said.

He points at the machine "Right, keep it. Keep that."

As the man behind him looks on in surprise, John angrily walks away, abandoning his shopping and quite possibly his card as well.

In the flat, Sherlock is on his feet again and the fight has moved back into the living room. The attacker takes another swing at Sherlock who ducks underneath the sword and then quickly straightens up, pointing directly over the man's shoulder "Look!"

The man has already half turned in that direction with the swing of his sword and is also perhaps momentary distracted by their reflections in the mirror over the fireplace behind him. Dare standing behind him swings a frying pan at the man's head making him drop unconscious into Sherlock's armchair. Sherlock straightens up and immediately checks his reflection in the mirror, straightening his jacket and cuffs and then dusting himself down. He turns to Dare smirking "Nice hit."

Dare smiles at him "Thanks." Before looking at the man's sword "I like his sword."

"Take it. He broke into here after all." Sherlock looks down at the man with disdain, as if indignant that he messed his suit up and all his fault that there is a dent in the frying pan.

Sometime later Sherlock is sitting in his armchair calmly reading a book. There is no sign of the attacker. Dare is practicing sword techniques with her new sword, John walks up the stairs and into the living room, stopping just inside the room and looking around as if he suspects that something has happened in his absence, but he can't tell what. As well as the curiosity on where Dare got her new sword, one she didn't have when he left in the morning.

"You took your time." Sherlock said not looking up.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping. Dare, where did you get the sword?" John said.

"It was here when I woke up. Sherlock said it was from Mycroft." Dare said, answering John's question, it wasn't an entire lie, Dare was woken up by Sherlock and the man fighting.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock said looking over the top of his book indignantly.

"Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine." John said tetchily.

Sherlock lowers his book a little and Dare stops playing with the sword "You ... you had a row with a machine?" Sherlock and Dare said at the same time (yes they do that sometimes, mostly to freak people out, the rest happens on accident).

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" John asked Sherlock, knowing Dare just gives whatever money she gets to Sherlock. So she doesn't have to worry about paying her share, and whenever she wants something that involves money she'll hit Sherlock with a pillow till he goes to get it, mind you he doesn't go quietly.

Dare faces the window to hide her smile. Sherlock holds back his amused smile and nods towards the kitchen "Take my card."

John walks towards the kitchen where Sherlock's wallet is lying on the table, but before he gets there he turns back to his flatmates indignantly "You two could always go yourself, you know. You've both been sitting there all morning. You've not even moved since I left."

"Oi." Dare said sounding slightly offended.

Sherlock briefly flashes back in his mind to the fight as he ducks under a swing from the attacker's sword. He tries to look nonchalant as he turns the page of his book while John picks up the wallet from the table and rummages through it for a suitable payment card.

"And what happened about that case you were offered – the Jaria Diamond?" John said.

"Not interested." Sherlock replied using a piece of paper as a bookmark he shuts the book with a loud snap.

"We sent them a message." Dare said.

Flashback to Dare's frying pan swing that ended the fight.

John has now found a card he can use, but pauses to bend over to look more closely at the new long narrow gouge in the top of the table. He sighs and runs his finger along the cut, rubbing at it in case it's just a mark that can be removed.

"Ugh, Holmes." John whispers exasperatedly "Dare, did you leave this mark on the table."

"No. Sherlock was playing with the sword when I woke up, I think it was him." Dare had to duck to avoid the pillow thrown by Sherlock.

Looking across to his flatmate Sherlock, he tuts pointedly. Sherlock shakes his head innocently. John turns and leaves the room, trotting down the stairs as Sherlock smirks, before giving Dare a glare for ratting him out. She raises the sword in a defence position towards Sherlock.

Later, John staggers up the stairs carrying several bags of shopping.

"Don't worry about me. I can manage." John says sarcastically.

Sherlock, who is now sitting at the dining table with his hands folded in front of his mouth as he looks at a laptop screen, barely glances across to John, who sighs heavily as he carries the bags into the kitchen and dumps them onto the table. Sherlock is engrossed in reading an e-mail from someone called Sebastian Wilkes. The full e-mail isn't shown but what text can be seen reveals that Sherlock and Sebastian haven't seen each other for a long time. Sebastian has heard that Sherlock is now a consultant – or a consulting detective – and tells him that "There's been an 'incident' at the bank" which he hopes that Sherlock may be able to sort out. He asks him to drop by and says that he'll be relying on Sherlock's discretion. John turns around from the kitchen table and frowns as he realises which piece of equipment Sherlock is looking at.

"Is that my computer?" John asked

"Of course." Sherlock said starting to type.

"What?!"

"Mine was in the bedroom."

"What, and you couldn't be bothered to get up?"

Sherlock doesn't reply.

"Its password protected!" John said indigently.

"In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours." he glances up at John.) "Not exactly Fort Knox."

"Right, thank you. Well at least Dare wouldn't have gone on it." John said annoyed.

He reaches over and slams the lid down as Sherlock pulls his fingers out of the way just in time. John then takes the laptop across the room and puts it down on the floor beside his armchair as he sits down. After he sat down he noticed Dare sprawled out on the floor in front of the couch. Once he noticed this he immediately jumped up to see if she's okay. "Dare. Dare are you okay."

She grunted, not bothering to move.

Sherlock clasps his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth as he props his elbows on the table and looks thoughtful. "She's okay John just adjusting to new antidepressants, they just want to see if there is any new improvement."

"Okay then." John says as he stands up then returning to his chair again. John picks up a small pile of letters from the table beside his chair and frowns. "Oh."

He flicks through the letters, at least one of which appears to be a red bill which needs urgent paying. He shakes his head in resignation "Need to get a job."

"Oh, dull." Sherlock said from the kitchen.

He seems to be lost in thought. John puts the letters back onto the table and looks across at his friend for a moment, but then glances at the bills again and awkwardly sits forward.

"Listen, um ... if you'd be able to lend me some ..." he stops as he realises that Sherlock appears to be a world of his own "Sherlock, are you listening?"

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock said not looking around.

He gets up and heads towards the stairs, taking his coat from the hook on the door as he goes and throws Dare's coat on her. She grunts and slowly gets up and follows him down. John frowns, then jumps up and hurries to join them.

TOWER 42, OLD BROAD STREET. Sherlock leads John and a sleepy Dare through revolving glass doors which lead into Shad Sanderson Bank. John stares at the impressive foyer as he follows his friends.

"Yes, when you said we were going to the bank ..." John said.

He gets onto an escalator behind Sherlock and Dare as the detective observes everything around him, especially the security systems which have to have cards swiped across electronic readers in order to open glass barrier gates. The boys reach the top of the escalator and Sherlock walks over to the reception desk and addresses one of the receptionists "Sherlock Holmes."

A little later the trio have been shown into Sebastian Wilkes' office and now he walks in and grins at Sherlock.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sebastian greeted.

"Sebastian." Sherlock replied.

They shake hands, Sebastian clasping Sherlock's hand in both of his own.

"Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sabastian said.

Sherlock looks back at him with only marginally disguised dislike. Sebastian turns to look at John and Dare.

"This is my friend, John Watson. And my sister, Dare Holmes." Sherlock introduced.

"Friend?" Sabastian emphasized.

"Colleague." John corrected.

"Right." Sabastian replied.

They shake hands, Sebastian looking at John curiously.

"Right." he throws a brief look at Sherlock as if saying, 'Didn't think you had a friend!' Grinning unpleasantly, he scratches his neck momentarily and Sherlock's gaze falls on his wristwatch. As Sebastian turns away, John purses his lips as if he has taken an instant dislike to the man; either that or he's regretting correcting Sherlock.

Sebastian turns to Dare putting out his hand to shake Dare's "And you must be Dare, Sherlock's little sister. My little brother told me a lot about you."

She looks at the offered hand before giving Sebastian a disgusted look "Nice to know it's a family trait." She said before turning her attention to her cellphone, not explaining what trait she was talking about.

"Well, grab a pew. D'you need anything? Coffee, water?" Sebastian said trying not to look offended or angry about what Dare said.

Sherlock shakes his head.

"No." John said.

"Coffee three sugars." Dare said not looking up.

"Okay." Sebastian said then turns to his secretary "Coffee three sugars please."

As the secretary leaves the room, Sebastian sits down at his desk and the other two sit side by side opposite him while Dare stands behind Sherlock still on her phone.

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot." Sherlock said.

"Well, some." Sabastian said.

"Flying all the way round the world twice in a month?" Sherlock said.

John frowns in confusion but Sebastian just laughs and points at Sherlock.

"Right. You're doing that thing." Sabastian said.

He looks at John "We were at uni together. This guy here had a trick he used to do."

"It's not a trick." Sherlock said quietly.

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story. And my little brother said she did the same trick." Sebastian said to John.

"Yes, I've seen him do it." John said.

The secretary walks in handing Dare her coffee. Dare mutters a quiet thank-you before the secretary leaves. Dare takes a sip grimacing at the taste, but still holds on to it.

John noticed this and gave her a questioning look, which she ignored.

_"Is she mad at me now too?"_ John thought.

"Put the wind up everybody. We hated him. Dare wasn't too popular either, only had two friends."

Sherlock turns his head away and looks down, his face momentarily filling with pain. Dare puts a hand on his shoulder ducking her head to hide her pain

"You'd come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night." Sebastian said, oblivious to hurt he is causing to the siblings.

"We simply observed." Sherlock said quietly.

"Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world – you're quite right. How could you tell?" Sebastian said.

Sherlock opens his mouth but Sebastian continues speaking "You're gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan." He said smugly.

John smiles.

"No, I ..." Sherlock tried to say.

"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!" Sebastian said talking over him.

"He was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told us." Dare snapped glaring at the man behind the desk.

John frowns round at her, confused by such an 'ordinary' explanation. Sebastian laughs humourlessly and Sherlock smiles back at him with an equal lack of humour, and Dare goes back to her phone. Sebastian claps his hands together, then becomes more serious.

"I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in." Sebastian said.

He leads them across the trading floor towards another door.

"Sir William's office – the bank's former Chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night." Sebastian said.

"What did they steal?" John asked.

"Nothing. Just left a little message."

He holds his security card against the reader by the door to unlock it. Hanging on the plain white wall behind the large desk is a framed painted portrait of a man in a suit – presumably the late Sir William Shad himself. On the wall to the left of the portrait someone has sprayed what looks like a graffiti 'tag' in yellow paint. The tag looks vaguely like a number 8 but with the top of the number left open, and above it is an almost horizontal straight line. And across the eyes of the portrait another almost horizontal straight line has been sprayed. Perhaps because of the texture of the paper or perhaps because the 'artist' over sprayed the line, the yellow paint has run trails down the painting. Sebastian leads the way towards the desk and then steps aside to allow Sherlock and Dare a clear view of the wall. John moves to stand on the other side of Sebastian, who looks at Sherlock and Dare expectantly as the detectives stare in fixed concentration at the graffiti.

Later they're back in Sebastian's office and he is showing the trio the security footage of the office from the previous night.

"Sixty seconds apart." Sebastian says.

He flicks back and forth between the still taken at 23:34:01 which shows the paint on the wall and on the portrait, and a minute earlier – 23:33:01 – when the wall and portrait were still clean.

Dare puts her coffee down near the edge close to Sebastian.

"So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, then left within a minute." Sebastian said.

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting."

Back in the reception area, Sebastian shows them a screen on a computer which has a layout of the trading floor and its surrounding offices. Each indicated door has a light against it showing its security status.

"Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet." Sebastian explained.

"That door didn't open last night."

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you – five figures." he reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket and takes out a cheque "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, there's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." Sherlock stated before he walks away with Dare following being him. John watches them go, then turns to Sebastian.

"He's, uh, he's kidding you, obviously." John said.

He holds his hand out "Sh-shall I look after that for him?"

Sebastian hands him the cheque.

"Thanks." John looks at the figure on the cheque and shakes his head in disbelief that that's only the advance.

Sherlock has returned to Sir William's office and is taking photographs of the graffiti on his mobile phone. Once he has taken several pictures he turns around, the symbols still floating in front of his mind's eye. He looks to his right where the floor-to-ceiling windows show an impressive view of the nearby Swiss Re Tower, better known as 'The Gherkin'. Frowning and looking away in thought for a moment, he then walks over to the windows and pulls up the blinds which are covering what is revealed to be a door onto a small balcony. Opening the door he goes out onto the balcony and looks at the spectacular view over London before looking down at the very long drop to the ground hundreds of feet below. Sherlock looks along the balcony and bites his lip thoughtfully before heading back inside.

Dare goes out on the balcony as well, except Sherlock holds on to the back of her jacket, not that she needs him to anyways.

Shortly afterwards, Sherlock is dancing. On the trading floor he has ducked down behind a desk and now rises slowly upright, staring in concentration at the glass doorway to Sir William's office. He then ducks sideways and hurries across the floor, to the bemusement of a Random Sexy Extra and other traders. Sherlock continues to scamper around the floor, frequently scurrying sideways and ducking down behind desks before popping up again and peering at the doorway. He dances across the floor again and twirls around a column before backing towards an office on the other side of the floor. Stopping in that doorway, he wiggles about, his eyes still fixed on Sir William's office, then turns and goes into the office and heads to the other side of the desk. Standing directly behind the chair of whoever works in that room, he sees that he has a clear view of the top of the painting and the new yellow slash across the portrait's eyes. He dances sideways across the room before coming back to his previous position, confirming that this is the only place on the trading floor where the damaged portrait can be seen. Looking around the room for some identification, he eventually goes to the door where two signs are attached to the outside, one showing that this is the office of the Hong Kong Desk Head, and the sign above it giving the name of that person – Edward Van Coon. He slides the top sign out of its holder and heads off.

While this is happening Dare is rewiring the security footage of the office with Sebastian beside her.

"Well is there anything different?" Sebastian asked.

Dare frowns "No I think that's all we can get from this footage."

Sherlock pops in with John by the doorway.

"I have everything I need. Did you find anything?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing." Dare said looking up.

"Well then well be off." Sherlock said.

"We'll be in touch. Goodbye." Sebastian said.

Dare turns to him "Just before we leave I would just like to apologise for my earlier behaviour, I've just had a lot of school work and I ended up pulling all-nighters." Dare said with a shy smile.

Sherlock and John give her confused looks.

Sebastian laughed "It's alright. I remember my college days being like that, it must be worse having him as a brother as well." He put out his hand for her to shake to show that her apology really was accepted.

Dare's smile faltered a bit, but Sebastian didn't notice, but Sherlock and John did. Dare raised her hand to shake his, but her hand 'accidentally' got caught on her luke warm coffee cup, and dumped on his pants making it look like he wet his pants.

Sherlock and John were trying to hold in their laughter.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry about that!" Dare said managing to sound horrified and sincere.

Sebastian looked like he was going to get mad, but stopped once he saw Dares sincere expression.

"No it's alright. I have an extra pair here, and I'll just need to get this pair dry cleaned." Sebastian said with a fake smile.

"I think we should leave." Sherlock said dragging Dare out of the office, barely able to hold his laughter in.

Sherlock is leading John and Dare back towards the escalators. Where the trio coulden't contain their laughter.

"Did you that on purpose?" John asked after he calmed down.

Dare gave him a devious look "Why would I do that?"

John gulps "No reason." John wouldn't admit it but Dare could really scare him sometimes, and the other times she could be the nicest person.

Sherlock smiles and ruffles her hair "Thank-you for what you did back there."

"No problem. His little brother came up with the idea to start shoving me into lockers. So it was partly my revenge as well. And he is probably going to take money of the next check for dry cleaning." Dare said.

"Yeah that's a guarantee." Sherlock said.

"Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary; she said that just to irritate him." John said changing the subject.

Sherlock smiles but doesn't respond.

"How did you know?"

"Did you see his watch?"

Brief flashback to Sherlock looking at Sebastian's wrist as he scratched his neck.

"His watch?"

"The time was right but the date was wrong. Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice but he didn't alter it." Dare answered.

"Within a month? How'd you two get that part?"

"New Breitling." Sherlock said.

Flashback close-up on the watch showing its brand name: Breitling Chronometre Crosswind.

"Only came out this February." Sherlock said.

"Okay. So d'you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?" John asked.

"Got everything we need to know already, thanks."

"Hmm?"

"That graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and ..." he deliberately trails off, allowing John to finish the sentence.

"... they'll lead us to the person who sent it."

"Obvious." Dare said.

"Well, there's three hundred people up there. Who was it meant for?" John asked.

"Pillars." Sherlock said.

"What?" John turns to Dare to explain. She shrugs her shoulders, she left was double checking the footage when the boys were looking for clues.

"Pillars and the screens. Very few places you can see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And of course the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot." Sherlock said.

"Does it?" John asked.

Sherlock continues talking as he and John and Dare go through the revolving doors and out onto the street.

"Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight."

He holds up the name card to show John and Dare.

"Not many Van Coons in the phonebook."

He spots what he immediately needs and calls out loudly "Taxi!"

After a taxi ride, they are outside a block of flats and Sherlock presses the door buzzer marked 'Van Coon'. Releasing it, he looks into the security camera above the buzzers, waits a couple of seconds, then presses the buzzer again. There's no response.

"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" John asked.

Sherlock has looked at the number of buzzers on the wall and steps back to look up the front of the building, presumably calculating the layout of the flats inside. He comes back to the wall and looks at John and Dare triumphantly "Just moved in."

Dare looks at the labels.

"What?" John asked confused.

"The floor above. New label." Dare answers.

She points to another buzzer which has a handwritten label saying, 'Wintle'.

"Could have just replaced it." John said.

Sherlock presses that buzzer, then at John again "No-one ever does that."

A woman's voice comes over the intercom "Hello?"

Sherlock turns to the camera and smiles, putting on a 'I'm just a normal harmless human being' voice. "Hi! Um, I live in the flat just below you. I-I don't think we've met."

He grins prettily into the camera.

"No, well, uh, I've just moved in."

Dare gives John a 'told you so' glance.

"Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat." he grimaces and bites his lip plaintively.

"D'you want me to buzz you in?"

"Yeah. And can I use your balcony?"

"What?"

Not long afterwards, Sherlock has flirted his way into the lucky Ms. Wintle's flat and is standing on her balcony. He looks over it to the ground several floors below. Luckily for him, the top floor which he is on has balconies which only run halfway across the front of the flat whereas the floor below has full-width balconies. He climbs over the side of Ms. Wintle's balcony and drops down onto the one outside Van Coon's flat. Taking another look over the edge, he turns and reaches for the handle of the door and finds that it is unlocked, which is a jolly good thing or he'd still be sitting there now waiting for Lestrade to turn up with many many colleagues who would want to take photographs of him stranded out there. He goes inside and walks across the very elegantly decorated living room. This is clearly the apartment of a wealthy man, with white leather furniture, shiny black tables and minimal clutter. He looks at everything as he goes through the room, and glances at a pile of books on a table. He walks through the kitchen, looking at the work surface before opening the fridge to reveal that it's full of nothing other than bottles of champagne. The front door to the flat buzzes.

"Sherlock." John calls from the other side of the door

Sherlock moves into the hall.

"Sherlock, are you okay?" John asked, still outside.

Sherlock opens the door to the small bathroom and glances inside at the few items on the shelf opposite. He shuts the door and walks to a larger door which is closed. He tries it and finds that it's locked.

"Yeah, any time you feel like letting us in." John said.

"John chill out, he's a grown man. Not some child you need to watch 24/7." Dare said sitting beside the door.

"Doesn't this bother you? Him just going off on his own. Leaving us to sit on the sidelines."

"Do you have abandonment issues?"

"What, no of course not."

Dare studies him carefully before asking "Do you have a crush on my brother?"

"What! No! Why does everyone assume I'm gay! I'm not! I'm perfectly straight." John yelled.

Dare attempts to supress a smile "Before you make a bigger scene. No I don't mind being on the sidelines, well today anyways. Those new antidepressant pills are making me drowsy as well as giving me a head ache."

John looks at her concernedly "Maybe you should have stayed at the flat."

Dare shook her head "It's not that bad. If the head ache gets worse I'll go back to the flat. Until then I'll stay with you guys."

"Okay but stay beside me and tell me if you get anymore symptoms or if your head ache gets worse. You got it?"

Dare smiles then nods.

Sherlock turns side-on and shoulder-charges the door and it bursts open. He walks inside and finds a man in a suit and overcoat lying on his back on the bed, dead. There is a pistol on the floor, and the man has a small bullet hole in his right temple.

Later, the police have been called and a photographer is taking pictures of Van Coon's body lying on the bed. A forensics officer is dusting for fingerprints on the nearby mirror, and distant voices suggest that other forensics officers are elsewhere in the flat. Sherlock has taken his coat off and is in the bedroom putting on a pair of latex gloves. John and Dare stand beside him.

"D'you think he'd lost a lot of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys." John asked.

"We don't know that it was suicide." Dare said.

"Come on. The door was locked from the inside; you had to climb down the balcony."

Sherlock has squatted down by a suitcase on the floor near the bed and has opened the lid and is looking at the contents and Dare looks over his shoulder.

"Been away three days, judging by the laundry." Sherlock said.

He sees that there's a deep indentation in the clothing inside the case, then straightens up and looks at John "Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it."

"Thanks – I'll take your word for it."

"Problem?"

"Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear."

"Those symbols at the bank – the graffiti. Why were they put there?" Sherlock said walking to the foot of the bed.

"What, some sort of code?"

"Obviously."

Having looked closely at Van Coon's legs – or possibly his shoes – he moves up and carefully opens the man's jacket to look at his inside pockets.

"Why were they painted? If you want to communicate, why not use e-mail?"

"Well, maybe he wasn't answering." John said.

"Oh good. You follow."

"No."

"Really?" Dare said

Sherlock throws him a look before moving on to examine Van Coon's hands.

"What kind of a message would everyone try to avoid?" Sherlock said.

John frowns in confusion.

"What about this morning – those letters you were looking at?" Sherlock asked.

"Bills."

Sherlock gently prises Van Coon's mouth open and pulls out a small black origami flower from inside. Air hisses out from the dead man's lungs.

"Yes. He was being threatened."

"Bag this up, will you ..." A man's voice calls out from outside the room

John and Dare look closely at the paper flower as Sherlock lifts an evidence bag to put the flower into it.

"Not by the gas board." John said.

"... and see if you can get prints off this glass." The man calls out.

The man – a plain clothed police officer who looks too young to be working as a Sargent walks into the bedroom. Sherlock turns and walks towards him.

"Ah, Sergeant. We haven't met." Sherlock says as he offers his hand to shake. The young man puts his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, I know who you are; and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence." The Sargent replied.

Lowering his hand, Sherlock gives the evidence bag to the officer and turns his best stroppy look on him "I've phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?"

"He's busy. I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant; it's Detective Inspector. Dimmock."

Sherlock looks at him in surprise, then turns and shares his surprised look with John and Dare.

"You're a Detective Inspector? Good job then. I'm Dare by the way." She said giving him a flirtatious smile.

Dimmock does a double take, clearly not seeing her when he walked into the room "Yes I heard of you too, and thanks." Then gave her a smile.

Sherlock rolls his eyes, while John finds it strange that Dare thinks it's an appropriate time to flirt beside a body.

Dimmock gestures them to flow before he walks out of the room. The trio follow him into the living room and he hands the bag to one of the forensics team.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide." he explained.

"That does seem the only explanation of all the facts." John added.

Sherlock takes his gloves off and turns back to him.

"Wrong. It's one possible explanation of some of the facts."

He turns to Dimmock "You've got a solution that you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it."

"Like?"

"The wound was on the right side of his head." Dare said.

"And?" Dimmock asked.

"Van Coon was left-handed."

She goes into an elaborate mime as she demonstrates her point, pretending to try and point a gun to her right temple with her left hand.

"Requires quite a bit of contortion." Sherlock said.

"Left-handed?" Dimmock asked again.

"How did you pass your classes?" Dare asked rudely beside him, clearly giving up flirting with him.

"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat." Sherlock said sarcastically as he points to the table beside the sofa.

"Coffee table on the left-hand side; coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets: habitually used the ones on the left ..."

Close-up of a double socket on the wall with a plug only in the left-hand socket.

"Pen and paper on the left-hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. D'you want me to go on?"

"No, I think you've covered it." John said tiredly.

"Oh, I might as well; I'm almost at the bottom of the list."

John nods as if to say, 'Yeah, I thought you might.'

Dare points towards the kitchen "There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left."

Sherlock and Dare turn to Dimmock with an impatient look on their faces.

"It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head." Sherlock said.

"Conclusion: someone broke in here and murdered him. Only explanation of all the facts."

"But the gun: why ..." Dimmock said.

Sherlock interrupted him "He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened."

He walks away and starts to put on his scarf, coat and gloves.

"What?" Dimmock asked.

"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning." John explained.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in." Sherlock explained.

"And the bullet?" Dimmock asked?

"Went through the open window."

"Oh, come on! What are the chances of that?!"

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun. I guarantee it."

"But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?"

"Good! You're finally asking the right questions." Sherlock says condescendingly as he dramatically slams his hand into his glove.

He turns and flounces out. Dare wave's goodbye before following her dramatic brother. John looks round at Dimmock and then points apologetically towards the departing drama queen and his sister before following him.

RESTAURANT. Sebastian is having lunch with some clients or work colleagues.

"... and he's left trying to sort of cut his hair with a fork, which of course can never be done!" Sebastian said laughing.

Sherlock and John and Dare walk over to the table.

"It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant." Sherlock said.

"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?" Sebastian replied.

"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders – someone who worked in your office – was killed."

"What?"

"Van Coon. The police are at his flat." John explained.

"Killed?" Sebastian asked sounding shocked.

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion. Still wanna make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?" Sherlock said sarcastically.

Sebastian puts his glass of water down and nervously runs his finger inside his shirt collar.

Shortly afterwards, Sebastian and the boys have relocated to the toilets in the restaurant. Dare refused to go into the men's restroom so she decided to entertain the other business men. Sebastian is washing his hands.

"Harrow; Oxford. Very bright guy. Worked in Asia for a while, so ..." Sebastian trailed off.

"... you gave him the Hong Kong accounts." John finished.

"Lost five mill in a single morning; made it all back a week later. Nerves of steel, Eddie had." Sebastian said while drying his hands.

"Who'd wanna kill him?"

"We all make enemies."

"You don't all end up with a bullet through your temple."

Sebastian's phone beeps a text alert.

"Not usually. 'Scuse me." He gets his phone out and looks at the message. "It's my Chairman. The police have been on to him. Apparently they're telling him it was a suicide."

"Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered." Sherlock said.

"Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that."

"Seb." Sherlock said sternly.

"... and neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don't get side-tracked."

He walks away. John waits until he has left the room, then turns to Sherlock "I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards(!)"

Sherlock and John went to retrieve Dare from the meeting, they were surprised at what they saw.

All the men were laughing at a joke Dare told.

"Oh. Looks like their little meeting is done. I best be going then." Dare said getting up and shrugging on her coat.

"Okay don't want to make them wait. Here is my card, call me if you ever need a job, whatever one you want it's yours, or if you need some help." One of the men said giving her his business card.

The rest of the men followed his lead by giving her their business cards as well telling her the same thing the first man said.

Dare gave them a smile "Thank-you I might take up one of your offers." Then left.

"What was that all about?" John asked when they were outside.

"Making allies, can't have too many of those." Dare said.

"You sound just like Mycroft." Sherlock said just as he hailed a cab.

"What's wrong with that, he's the most powerful man in the country."

Sherlock shook his head and got into the cab "Never mind."

EARL'S COURT. NIGHT TIME. An overweight bald man in his early forties is running frantically down the street, a hard backed book clasped in one hand. He looks repeatedly behind him as he runs. Reaching his front door, he whimpers as he fumbles with his door keys and finally gets the door open. Running upstairs, he unlocks the door to his flat and hurries inside, slamming the door and pushing a bolt across. He scurries up the flight of stairs leading to the main flat, throwing his book onto a pile of other books strewn all the way up the stairs, and runs into his living room. He stops in the middle of the room and then turns around, his face covered with sweat and his face full of terror at the sight which greets him.

NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES MUSEUM. The museum's Director walks across to Andy, who is sitting at a table cleaning an ancient pot.

"I need you to get over to Crispians." The Director said.

She shows him a catalogue. "Two Ming vases up for auction – Chenghua. Will you appraise them?"

"Er, er, Soo Lin should go. She's the expert." Andy replied.

"Soo Lin has resigned her job. I need you."

She walks away. Andy turns and looks sadly at Soo Lin's table behind him.

Later, he is standing outside the front door to Soo Lin's flat. Her doorbell has a handwritten name tag above it, showing her name – Soo Lin Yao – with a flower drawn in place of the dot over the 'i' and a couple of other flowers in the right hand corners. Andy presses the doorbell, then steps back and looks up to the first floor windows of the flat which is above a shop called The Lucky Cat. The shop and flat are clearly located in London's Chinatown. When nobody answers his ring, he rummages in his pockets, takes out an envelope and pen and scribbles a note on the envelope before bending down to the letterbox and pushing it through. He walks away.

In a doctor's surgery, Doctor Sarah Sawyer is reading John's printed Curriculum Vitae. She looks up at John sitting opposite her.

"Just locum work." Sarah said.

"No, that's fine." John said.

"You're, um ... well, you're a bit over-qualified."

John smiles "Er, I could always do with the money."

"Well, we've got two away on holiday this week, and one's just left to have a baby. Might be a bit mundane for you."

"Er, no; mundane is good sometimes. Mundane works."

"It says here you were a soldier." she said softly."

"And a doctor." He smiles at her again. Sarah looks down. She clearly fancies him.

"Anything else you can do?" She asked.

"I learned the clarinet at school."

"Oh!" She laughs "Well, I look forward to it!"

John laughs. She smiles flirtatiously at him.

221B. Sherlock has printed out the photographs of the graffiti near and across Sir William's portrait and has stuck them around the mirror above the fireplace. He is sitting on one of the dining chairs with his back to the dining table. He has his fingers steepled under his chin and is staring at the photos as various symbols in different languages flash in front of his mind's eye. Dare is sleeping on the couch. John walks in from the landing and drops his jacket onto his chair.

Sherlock said without looking around "Could you pass me a pen?"

John looks around the living room as if expecting that Sherlock is talking to someone else.

"What? When?" John asked.

"'Bout an hour ago." Sherlock replied.

John sighs.

"Didn't notice I'd gone out, then. Or that Dare was asleep."

He picks up a pen from the table beside his chair and, without even looking at Sherlock, tosses the pen in his direction. Sherlock lifts his left hand and catches it without looking away from the photographs on the wall. John walks over to the mirror to look more closely at the photos.

"Yeah, I went to see about a job at that surgery." John said.

"How was it?" Sherlock asked.

"It's great. She's great." John said absentmindedly.

"Who?"

"The job." John said looking round to him.

"'She'?"

"... It."

Sherlock looks at him suspiciously for a moment, then jerks his head to his right "Here, have a look."

"Hmm?"

He walks over to the table and looks at the web page on the open computer. The lead article on the 'Online News' page is headlined, "Ghostly killer leaves a mystery for police". Next to it is a photograph of the bald man, and the article reads: An intruder who can walk through walls murdered a man in his London apartment last night. Brian Lukis, 41, a freelance journalist from Earl's Court was found shot in his fourth floor flat but all his doors and windows were locked and there were no apparent signs of a break in. A police spokesman said they are still uncertain how the assailant broke in...

"The intruder who can walk through walls." John said.

"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked, windows bolted from the inside – exactly the same as Van Coon." Sherlock said.

John straightens up and looking at his flatmate "God. You think ..."

"He's killed another one."

**Yay new chapter. Let me know what you think of the story in the comments. Sorry if there was any grammar or spelling mistakes in story. For some reason that line won't work to separate the authors note from the chapter so I put it in bold. Maybe its the new laptop I'm using.**


	9. AN

Hey readers. Sorry this is not a chapter update. Like i said before i'm now in school, which means lots of homework, and the fact that my car was hit pretty bad when a truck skipped a stop sign and ran into me. I'm okay though, I walked away with scraped knees (thank-you seat belts), the doctor said that my knee is going to hurt a lot over the next couple weeks, or months, either way its going to be a long time. And the point of this A/N is that I have no idea when my next update will be, it could be a week or a month or two (I will try not make it 3) so my next update is iffy during the school year, but I am not giving up on this story, I have a plan for it's only that I need free time to write it.

That is all, and i will try to see if I can find free time to write if I can, so until next time bye:)


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